


Letters From Nobody

by MyBeanieIsALiar



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (but mostly fluff), All The Tropes, Character Development, Complete, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Idiots in Love, Kyotani is soft you can't change my mind, Love Letters, Mommy Issues, Oikawa slander, Unrequited Love, Volleyball, bad jokes and bad flirting, cute ass friendships, lots of glass metaphors idk, shitty attempt at romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBeanieIsALiar/pseuds/MyBeanieIsALiar
Summary: Oikawa receives a strange letter from a self-proclaimed 'Nobody' who believes he ruined her life. Imada Momoko, the writer finds herself head over heels for the popular boy and is unable to convey her feelings in any other way. The boy is desperate to find out who has been sending him these mysterious yet endearing letters but cannot find this nobody."Death is a promise and life is a fucking lie but you make it just that bit more bearable"
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	1. The First Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look this was a self-satisfactory fic I wrote when I was fifteen so excuse any crappy writing but it has a special place in my heart

_If I knew what I know now I never would've agreed to help out at the bake sale, never would've gotten involved with him, never snooped around, never watched him cry, never would've had my heart smashed into a million pieces. Unfortunately at that time my naive self hadn't a clue what I was getting myself into. I never would have guessed that I would cry myself to sleep, to understand the feeling of drowning without touching a drop of water or that my whole life would be presently ruined by a single boy._

_The boy who ruined my life? That's you. Oikawa Tooru. I'm guessing you don't remember me, that's fine. I hadn't expected you to. I'm nobody. You don't even need to read these letters. They're from nobody after all._

_Anyways, I'm writing to you for only one reason and that is to express my feelings in the only way a coward knows. Through anonymous letters, hand delivered, I feel is the only way I can tell the truth and nothing but the truth without feeling and looking like the idiot that I am._

_I suppose this is it for now, just a warning of the future messages and a prologue of some sorts. Expect another letter shortly once I've found the time to sit down and type it all out without any interruptions._

_Sincerest Regards (sorry is that too formal?)_

_Nobody._

The boy reread the letter in his hands another three times before it finally sunk in. He had always thought that if he ruined somebody's life he would have remembered doing it. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange message. Was it a prank from one of his volleyball friends? Most likely not since he doubted they'd go to so much trouble. Their pranks were generally small scale but very messy.

"Tooru!" His mother yelled at him from the doorway. "How long can it possibly take you to get some mail?"

Hoping not to get screamed at again the boy pushed all questions about this strange letter and rushed inside.   
~~

Imada Momoko could be described in very few words, plain, quiet, average. Quite simply, she was nobody. She faded into the background, no incredible talents, not the brightest, no dazzling looks, not very popular. However at the same time she wasn't terrible at anything, she was just average. Not amazing, not horrible, just there.

"I'm home." She sighed heavily despite having full knowledge that the house was empty, slipping off her shoes and exchanging them for a pair of worn slippers.

She proceeded to abandon her schoolbag on the floor and trudged into the dark kitchen. The brunette flicked on the light only to immediately turn it off again upon realising that she hadn't cleaned up after breakfast and thought it would be better to pretend she'd never seen the mess in the first place.

Briefly checking her phone for the time Momoko decided that it was early enough to procrastinate homework and busy herself with various other tasks such as writing her second letter or mindlessly watching television.

Throwing herself onto a couch surely older than she was judging by the multiple rips in the fabric and musty smell which reminded her of elderly people, not to mention the suspicious stain her father had tried to cleverly hide with a blanket.

A mere eleven minutes into the random teen drama she'd settled on her phone began to violently buzz, startling the bespectacled girl.

"Hulk's Deli, you order, we smash." She'd quipped cheerfully after reading the Caller ID.

"Hey sweetheart," her fathers voice droned tiredly from the phone. "I won't be able to come home tonight, sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to the party but I've just got too much work and my boss is breathing down my neck."

Heart dropping, Momoko knew she should have expected something like that to happen. "It's fine, birthdays come every year. We can celebrate properly next year."

She'd said the same thing last year.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, now get off your arse and start working!" Already feeling the tears budding in her eyes she immediately hung up, afraid he'd catch on.

In no mood to continue with the drama she breathed carefully, in and out, refusing to cry. It'd been like that ever since her mother had up and abandoned them to move to Canada with some guy she'd met through work.

"Fuck my life." Pulling angrily at her hair she stood up and stalked to her bedroom. Plain and simplistic, beige walls, a minimal amount of posters and pictures, the only standout of her room was her expensive PC which she'd bought and assembled herself.

Silently she washed her face, scrubbing it just slightly too hard so that her skin took on an ugly red and changed into an oversized shirt and the baggiest pair of pyjama bottoms she had in her possession. The brunette stared at herself in the mirror, eyes full of hatred.

Inky black, straight as a pin hair left long to hang down her back, round eyes equally as dark which were almost completely hidden by her bangs which she always forgot to cut, round face with full cheeks, glasses usually propped on top of her head or perched on the bridge of her nose while at home, opting for contacts while at school. She hated it all. She was pretty much a carbon copy of her mother who remained a distant yet painful memory, burned forever into her mind.

Momoko originally planned to lose herself in sleep but quickly realised that she hadn't eaten and didn't wish to cook herself partly because it required too much effort and partly because she didn't want to clean up the present mess.

"Fuck it," she pulled her hair back into an untamed bun behind her head. "I'm getting noodles."

And so she did. Pocketing her phone and a few crumpled up notes she left her house and crossed the empty street to find a convenience store. Despite not being very late into the night it was already dark outside, no moon or stars visible on the inky landscape, only light coming from the houses that lined the road and streetlights positioned at equal distances from each other.

Locating a store did not require much effort nor time and before she knew it she was sat down at a table, shovelling cheap instant ramen down her mouth, hair pulled back to make the task easier than it already was. Just where every girl wanted to be on their birthday. Perhaps she could buy a cupcake and a sparkler to make up for the lack of birthday cake and candles. No that was stupid, she didn't have a lighter anyways and didn't want to risk being made fun of.

Sighing heavily she had suddenly put down her chopsticks and stared at her half-eaten food. She'd forgotten to sing. Would it be weird to do that in public however? Oh well, she couldn't possibly sink lower than the level she was already at, alone on her birthday.

"Happy Birthday to me," Momoko began quietly, keeping her dark eyes fixated on her noodles. "Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me."

Singing it on her own, not even with a cake or candles she realised that the whole idea of birthday celebrations were pretty strange. A group of people gathered in a dark room around a flaming object singing a repetitive song in unison. Was it intended to be so satanic?

Apparently she'd said her last thought out loud and was startled as a familiar boy sat down across from her.

"Not sure, depends what you're talking about." Oikawa Tooru stared back at the dumbfounded girl as he shoved milk bread into his mouth.

"Um...hi?" Immediately she began internally hitting herself for being so stupid.

"Are you always this articulate?"

"Are you always this intrusive?" She shot back, unable to help herself.

"Intrusive?"

"I'm guessing you either don't speak basic Japanese or don't realise that you're _intruding_ on my birthday celebration. Whichever it is it's not overwhelmingly good." The brunette desperately hoped she was hiding her secret obsession with the boy.

"Then enlighten me, why are you spending your birthday eating cheap noodles outside a convenience store, alone in what I'm guessing is your pyjamas?"

He was so cute when he pretending to act all cool and smart, too bad he had no idea she knew that he was just a giant volleyball dork.

"Do you really want to know?" She arched a brow and tilted her head to the side inquisitively.

"If I didn't I wouldn't have asked."

"Okay fine," she shrugged in defeat. "I'm here right now because my mother decided to abandon me, forcing my father to work longer hours just to prevent us from becoming homeless. Due to that he's more concerned with work than his own daughter and hasn't celebrated my birthday with me since I was ten. To add onto that my friends see me as an accessory used to copy homework off of which they don't particularly care much about. Does that answer your question?"

Why she had pretty much spilled her life story to a boy who barely knew her she wasn't sure. Why he sat down in the first place she wasn't sure of either. Had he read the letter and already guessed she was the writer? It didn't matter anyways, he would never know it was her.

"Yeah, thanks." He didn't have much to say after that. Who would faced with such brutally honest words?

Neither were close to finishing their meals at that point and it would feel awkward to leave without having finished so Momoko forced herself to speak up again, questions of her own plaguing her mind.

"Can I ask you something then?"

"You just did."

"Shut up pretty boy."

"Oh, so I'm pretty?"

"Obviously."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. Anyways, why'd you sit here?" She pushed her round glasses further up her nose. "There's plenty of other tables you could have chosen."

"Because you looked sad." His reply startled her enough not to muster up a witty response.

"So what?" She felt herself growing defensive. "It's none of your business."

"I know it isn't," he'd grinned at her, the most beautiful grin she'd ever laid eyes on. "But I wasn't about to let you celebrate your birthday by yourself, now was I? How old are you anyways?"

Choosing not to question his logic any further, Momoko accepted the situation and answered simply. "Seventeen now. Woohoo!"

"That was definitely sarcastic."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Rude!"

"That I am, anything new?" Playfully, she rolled her dark eyes and continued with her task of eating her noodles which were by that time cold but still delicious.

"So you're a second year?"

"Yup, what about it?

"Nothing." He'd sung as though he was the unwanted, Japanese, Von Traap child in ' _The Sound Of Music_ ' who was just kinda there, not doing much.

Momoko had been about to claim that it was obviously not nothing otherwise he wouldn't have asked but chose not to continue an unnecessary conversation, terrified that she'd accidentally let on how much she loved that asshole.

"Fine then," the brunette stood up and dusted off her pyjama pants. "That was one of the most touching pointless conversations I've ever had with a stranger. It was a pleasure."

"You're a pleasure."

"Shut up." She hung her head to try and hide her now red face. It wasn't even a good pick-up-line yet it made her feel like a pile of melted butter on a stack of American style pancakes.

It was only after the strange girl had skipped off that Oikawa realised he'd never gotten her name. All he knew was that she was a second year, that it was her birthday and that she was one of the most entertaining people he'd ever met. Originally he'd come there to try and get his mind off the mysterious letter but found that meeting a sad, pretty stranger proved to be far more fun.

Once safe in her home Momoko had hit her head against the front door and cursed her entire existence, every word that came out of her mouth in front of him. He didn't even remember her when she knew well that she was head over heels for that stupid asshole.

Eventually she found the only way she would not stay up the whole night going over the encounter again and again and again was to let out all her feelings, very vocally. She took a deep breath in before releasing a scream, articulately expressing all her emotions in a single word.

"Fuck!"


	2. Familiar Faces

The school day passed as all school days did, slowly and painfully like a Medieval torture ritual designed to make those being tortured so stressed, bored and drained of all hope and happiness that they would rather stick thumbtacks in their eyes.

Momoko spent her time in class like most students, paying minimal attraction while trying her best not to doze off as the teacher droned on like a robot in the same flat monotonous tone, not really caring whether the students were paying attention or not. Out of class the brunette followed her friends around like a lost puppy, speaking only when spoken to, laughing when they laughed, said nothing when they went on another gossip rant.

She wasn't proud of this behaviour, shameful thoughts of it running rampant in her mind constantly but could not get over her perpetual fear of being alone. They didn't like her very much, she knew it, she was plain, boring and had nothing to offer them except to listen when so-and-so had spent the weekend in a motel with so-and-so's boyfriend and to utilise her perfectly timed and well-practiced reactions to such claims.

The girls Momoko was friends with were both beautiful, smart, athletic and popular with boys, why they let her tag along remained a mystery. Her role in the friendship was practically nonexistent, as was she in general.

Inoue was the tall, elegant captain of the girls' basketball team, silky chestnut brown hair tumbling perfectly around her shoulders, clear pale blue eyes which stood stark against her sallow complexion. She could have easily become a model had she wanted to. One of her few flaws was her short fuse, exploding with rage at the slightest inconvenience and thoroughly terrifying all those around her.

Amano was the cute one, blonde pigtails, cheeks always dusted the lightest shade of pink and her personality matched well with her appearance. Sickly sweet and sure to give you a few cavities. However her eyes held malice and hate, she had dirt on everybody in the school except Momoko who kept incredibly to herself no matter how hard Amano tried to pry something out of her.

Momoko had been the odd one out, insignificant, quiet, the observer. She served no purpose other than to just be there, like a decoration or one of those small, yappy dogs women kept in their bags.

"Imada-chan," Amano had whined like a child, eyes bleary with tears and lower lip jutted out. "Can you get me something from the vending machine?"

Eyes darting up from the notebook she'd been doodling in, the brunette nodded and rose to her feet. "Yeah, what do you want?" She held out her hand so she could be given the money but it was seemingly ignored.

"You see, I want apple juice but I forgot my money today Imada-chan!" The glint of deceit in her eyes said otherwise but Momoko didn't wish to cause conflict.

"That's okay, you can pay me back tomorrow." They all knew that wouldn't happen. Inoue snorted from behind her hand, doing a horrible job at concealing her amusement.

"Oh and grab me a soda!"

The second Momoko was out of the room she heaved a heavy sigh, shoulders sinking and eyes screwing themselves shut as she felt the oncoming headache hit her hard. Sometimes just being around them mentally, physically and emotionally drained her of all life and soul. Then, like the good little servant she was she'd quickly located the nearest vending machine.

The brunette dug through her pocket counting out change. Her heart suddenly sank. She didn't even have enough money for two drinks from the vending machine. What horrible sin could she possibly have committed in a past life to warrant such a shitty time. It seemed as though her life only managed to get worse as the hours ticked by.

"Imada-san?" Her back stiffened as a familiar voice piped up behind her. "Are you okay? You're looking a bit pale."

Stiffly she turned around, gaze meeting those of Hirose Sayori, a girl who was nothing more than a classmate of hers. A classmate who had no friends, a classmate who was hated by the majority of girls in their class over some petty boyfriend feuds, a classmate who she saw a bit of herself in.

"Hirose-san," Her greeting came out strained, her friends hated this girl with every fibre of their beings. "I'm fine but..."

Ashamed at the mere thought of asking for money she cast her eyes downwards. "Actually it's nothing, I'm sorry."

Hirose was yet another beautiful girl, hair dyed a cherry red as it hung perfectly framing her face which Momoko was almost sure was perfectly symmetrical. She wasn't too short, nor too tall, not too thin, not too fat, her blue eyes always sparkled which hid the undertones of loneliness and pain, she was perfect. Despite what the other females in their class said, Hirose was an incredibly sweet girl, always trying her best to help out and kept her intentions pure. There were many reasons almost all the boys in the year had a crush on her.

"Are you sure?" The girl's face became clouded with worry in spite of barely knowing Momoko. "Do you want me to bring you to the nurse? I know it's none of my business but you have been eating well, right? Staying hydrated? Getting enough sleep? Oh goodness, that's a lot of questions isn't it? I'm sorry that was another."

"No really, I'm okay...thank you though." A strange warm feeling spread through her chest at the thought that someone even remotely cared about her. "You're really kind, Hirose-san."

The redhead's face flushed crimson, an action she somehow made look cute and girlish instead of awkward and embarrassing in the way Momoko did. "Oh no! It's only right! I'm just showing my concern for a...an acquaintance."

"Oh, okay."

Silence ensued. Or at least it had until her lord and saviour Oikawa Tooru whisked her away from the ever growing awkwardness.

"Hey there, stranger."

Taking the opportunity of escape Hirose had left quietly with a mere nod of acknowledgement and small smile.

The third year leaned up against the vending machine in what he probably thought was a seductive pose but ended up simply appearing as your run-of-the-mill creep. However such thoughts could only bring a grin to her lips. It was rare those days that she truly felt happy. Watching Oikawa being the dork he was, was one of them.

"We meet again mysterious and alluring prince." She sarcastically curtsied as he bowed in return.

"It's truly a pleasure for me to have such a beautiful and charming princess such as yourself merely grace me with your presence."

Momoko snorted, all negative feelings washing away like a wave rolling onto the sandy beach and knocking down a poorly constructed sandcastle.

"Shut up."

"What do you want?" He nodded his head towards the nutrition dispensing device he was leaning against. Was he offering to buy her something?

"No!" Her tone had suddenly turned serious, atmosphere taking a whole one-eighty. "You're not buying me anything. That's an order!"

The brunette regretted her slip of temper and composure but it could not have been helped. She'd always promised herself never to accept anything related to money no matter how small it was. It was a bit ridiculous, she was well aware of that fact but it was important to her and she was adamant on sticking by that rule.

"Why not? It's a birthday present." He'd shrugged as though she hadn't just screamed at him in the school hallway for simply being nice.

"Excuse me?" Baffled she'd recoiled slightly, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"It was your birthday yesterday."

"I know that!"

"And this is your present, you didn't get anything else did you?" His tone had lowered to a whisper and she had honestly never felt so touched in her life. She was honestly surprised she hadn't burst into tears at that very moment.

"No." Her voice was quiet, embarrassed and just about the most heartbreaking noise Oikawa had ever heard.

Taking a deep breath so she could regain her composure Momoko had shrugged as though her front hadn't just become completely translucent for a second there. "Okay then, orange juice and soda."

"That it?"

After a second of light thought she'd added onto her order. "Coffee too then since you're spoiling me."

She had to bite her lip as she watched him pay for her items, already feeling the guilt creeping into her conscience as she re-pocketed her sparse change. Taking the beverages into her arms she glanced up at him, eyes filled with an emotion he could not recognise.

"Cheers."

Without another word she'd mockingly saluted him and sauntered off, desperately hoping she looked cool while doing so. It was only after she'd turned the corner that Oikawa realised he'd forgotten to ask her her name again. Was constantly referring to her as 'Noodle Girl' in his head insulting?   
~

"What took you so long Imada-chan?" Amano had whined, hands stretched out in search of her drink. "We were just talking about that stupid slut."

Momoko seated herself, the elated feeling from earlier immediately fading and being replaced by discomfort as she stiffly seated herself. "Who?"

"Hirose, stupid!" Inoue rolled her eyes. "Who else could it possibly be?"

"Oh." Momoko grew more awkward and tensed her shoulder as she sipped on her coffee. It felt weird to hear her friends bitch about Hirose just after she'd been nice to her. "Yeah, sorry."

"Ugh, she's so annoying." Amano's cutesy facade had melted away and revealed her true nature which was ugly and repulsive. "I don't know why all the boys like her so much, she's not even that pretty."

It felt as though someone had made a gust around Momoko's heart.

"I know, I hate her." Inoue pulled a face. "She's such a stupid whore."

Clenching her fists the quiet girl spoke up, eyes fixed on her scuffed shoes. "I actually think she's really nice."

The disapproving glares almost made her back down but she stood her ground. "What did she ever do to you guys anyways? You can't be angry for her simply existing. It's not her fault that guys think she's cute."

"Excuse me?" Amano's voice was like tea saturated with sugar, fake, strained and held a lot of repressed anger. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that about my number one nemesis."

"Sorry." The apology had tumbled from her lips so easily even though she'd meant every word she'd said. Once again fear had won over her morality. Coward.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_Have you ever been too afraid to stand up to your friends? I don't think so, everyone seems to love you. For me it's the exact opposite. Funny, huh? I tried to be more assertive today. Long story short, it didn't work very well. I was shot down pretty fast._

_I know it's only the second letter but do you hate me yet? I wouldn't put it past myself. As you can tell I'm a cowardly sheep who just goes along with the rest of the flock. My friends know this and use it to their advantage as an excuse to walk all over me. They think I don't notice but I do. I'm a coward, not an idiot._

_Still I can put up with all of it if it means I'm not alone. At least with friends, however fake the relationship is, I'm safe. Lackeys are untouchable once they have popular friends. Told you I was horrid. Just a nobody._

_You looked nice today, did you get a haircut? It suits you but of course everything seems to suit you, like the whole universe was created just for you. Obviously that's not the case but sometimes it's how I can see it. If everything around you was made solely for you it would probably make you feel pressured, or at least that's how it would be for me. As though it was all up to you to be perfect._

_This is getting unnecessarily depressing, sorry._

_Sincerest regards (seriously is this too formal?),_   
_Nobody._


	3. Tear-Stained Paper

Oikawa Tooru had always prioritised volleyball over all else, something which proved to serve as both an advantage and a disadvantage. It was good in the respect that his dedication to the sport helped him become incredibly proficient at it however it also hindered his relationships with those around him. Due to his dedication he'd never once been late to practice. Or at least he hadn't until the third letter had arrived, ink smudged with what looked like to be tears.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_Do you ever feel like your whole life is falling apart? Ripping at the seams like an old childhood toy which would comfort and protect you? To the point where it becomes so painful you can't hide it anymore? This probably isn't the best way to start off my third letter considering I haven't written all week but I'm doing it regardless._ _To be honest I've always fancied myself a bit of a rebel._

_Everything hurts, every emotion, every feeling. That_ _sounds_ _very dramatic now that I'm writing it down but it feels true. Although the sadness, abandonment and self-hate is painful the worst thing of all is the unrequited love. I hate you. Everything about you. From your stupid perfect hair to the annoying way your nose scrunches up when you laugh._ _Okay, maybe I'm lying, that's actually super cute._

_You plague my dreams, my reality and my thoughts. I wish I could ask you to stop but it's not your fault. It's mine for being stupid, foolish and nosy. For blindly believing that I know you when the truth is I've barely_ _even_ _scratched the surface._

_Whatever you do, do not blame yourself for my pain. You have unconsciously been the cause for my suffering. It doesn't matter though. I'm nobody important whereas you are everything to me. Is it selfish of me to write to you in this way? To want you to read my letters? Because all I want is for someone to actually give a shit?_

_If you haven't guessed already I'm kinda having an emotional and mental breakdown right now which serves as my lame excuse as to not writing all week. Is crying for three hours straight before passing out normal? Somehow I very much doubt it. But seriously, what kind of idiot bursts into tears the very second a mildly sad song comes on and ruins their three-page physics essay? A me kind of idiot is the very obvious answer._

_Sincerest regards,_   
_Nobody._

His hands shook as he reread the letter for the fifth time. Whoever this 'Nobody' was, they needed help and they needed it fast. They made it sound as though there wasn't anybody there for them. For the first time in ages, all thoughts of volleyball had been driven completely out of mind. He was already late, what was a couple extra minutes?

Oikawa picked up his bag, tear-stained paper still in hand and ran back inside. He snatched up a pen and began on his reply.  
~

Momoko had immediately regretted writing her third letter by the time she'd woken up that morning. She'd written it, deliriously due to her breakdown and left it in the mailbox at three thirty in the morning. It was embarrassing, incredibly so and she cursed herself endlessly for it.

The house was empty that morning, as it always was. Her father came home late, left early in the morning and often found it easier to simply sleep in his office rather than taking the train home. Sometimes Momoko forgot she even had a father. It couldn't be helped though, they needed money and her father wouldn't let her work part-time.

In a futile attempt to drown out her thoughts with music, the brunette had shoved earphones in, blasting some old j-pop songs while she otherwise silently made a pitiful breakfast consisting of instant coffee and microwaved oatmeal. She'd stared blankly at her meal for a solid ten minutes before deciding that she wasn't hungry and 'donated' it to the neighbour's dog, Burger, who always appeared to be hungry.

She had headed off on her journey to school in the same manner, makeup hiding her disheveled appearance rather well. Her breakdown the previous night was represented by dark circles, sickly pale complexion and knotted hair, all concealed. However her voice came out rough whenever she tried to talk, throat sore from screaming at herself and her eyes were still bloodshot.

Thankfully she doubted her friends would notice and even if they did they wouldn't care. So long as she hid it from the teachers, she was safe from having her father called and being forced into counselling. She'd had enough of that to last a lifetime after her mother had left them.

Momoko was correct in assuming no one would notice and drifted through the day like an AI with programmed reactions and words. She had also succeeded in repressing her emotions and bottled them up. If there was an award for pushing people away she would be a very promising nominee.

She laughed when her friends laughed, smiled awkwardly as they gossiped, had minimal input in their conversations and did as they asked. The loyal sheep. The cowardly sheep. Was referring to herself as a sheep offensive to actual sheep? Could she google a question like that without being recommended for psychiatric help?

A very sudden, cold gust of wind rushed past, jolting her out of the confused puddle of gibberish which she called her thoughts as the brunette mumbled out a few curses. Why she was on the roof of all places, she wasn't too sure. It was getting late, majority of students having already left except for those in clubs, and the sun was sinking down slowly and steadily into the horizon, basking her surroundings in a beautiful golden hue. Despite the perfection that was the pinkish, blueish sky laid out for her to witness, she couldn't help but feel an echoing emptiness inside of her.

Momoko was hit with the sudden realisation of how small she truly was. Individuals often possessed the mindset that everything in their life revolved around them and that they were not just one tiny spec upon another tiny spec in the great expanse of the ever-growing universe. It was terrifying yet relieving to understand that nothing mattered truly. Humanity would die out, either due to the damage they themselves did to their planet, or would be swallowed by the sun in a few billion years.

She hadn't even noticed the fat, wet, salty tears streaming down her cheeks, reddened by the biting wind until one dropped onto the back of her hand which lay still on the railing. Momoko's head hurt. It felt as though someone with incredibly large hands had taken her skull into their palms and was squeezing with ever fibre of strength in their body.

Her friends didn't like her. Hell, she doubted they even truly liked anyone, bar themselves. They treated her like shit. Why did she follow them around like a little lost puppy then? Self-gratification? Desperately denying her isolation? Did it even matter? No. It didn't matter. Not one bit, not in the whole scheme of things.

Momoko knew what futures Inoue and Amano had. They would stay they same as they'd always been, attend an average university where they would achieve average grades, find some rich older men, marry said men and pop out a few kids before struggling through a nasty divorce in which they lose everything and become old and fat, as was the destiny of most like them. But still, she envied them. At least they had a future. Momoko could barely imagine the next week, let alone getting into university and doing something with her pitiful life.

"Imada-san?" Her heart stopped and for a second the brunette was positive she'd died. Furiously she attempted to wipe the tears off her cheeks but the stream was unending and they continued at a steady pace.

In the blink of an eye she found herself in the tight and comforting grip of Hirose Sayori who didn't say a word after her initial surprise and merely softly stroked her hair. At that point, Momoko completely broke down. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, trembling like a leaf and her soft crying had turned into wailing. Hirose sat on the ground with her, the brunette's head nestled into her shoulder as she sobbed.

The fact that it was _Hirose,_ of all people, to care enough to help her just made her cry more. She stood by as her friends were complete bitches to this caring, beautiful girl who truly deserved the world and more. She was guilty. Humiliated. Remorseful. Envious.

"I'm sorry." She'd finally managed to choke out as her sobs finally quietened to faint hiccups and her body had run out of tears.

"What for?" The fellow female's voice was soft and warm. How could anyone possibly hate her.

"For this, for what you have to put up with, for the stupidity of it all." Momoko only then seemed to realise the turquoise tracksuit Hirose donned but thought it best to ask such an unrelated question later.

"None of it is your fault Imada-san." A handkerchief had begun working at drying her cheeks. "You can't control your feelings, nor other people."

"Yes...but I did nothing. I was a bystander." She could feel her words catching in her throats but forced them out, however painful they were to admit. "I'm just as bad as my friends. I never spoke up when they insulted you, didn't stop them when they stole your schoolbooks and spilled ink all over your bag. You shouldn't be here comforting me after I did something so horrid."

The arms wrapped around her tightened their grip ever so slightly but the owner remained silent."

"I'm so sorry." Momoko's last apology was small, fragile and quiet, like a glass ornament: easily shattered.

"Get up." The response was firmer and more authoritative sounding than she'd predicted. "Get your stuff. We're going out."

"What?" The brunette felt incredibly stupid, tears stilled stained onto her cheeks, eyes bloodshot, hair messy, makeup running. She felt weak, vulnerable and most prominently, embarrassed.

"We're getting food, Imada-san. Just give me a second to grab my stuff from the gym."

Before Momoko could protest she was hauled to her feet by the surprisingly strong Hirose and was being led gently down the stairs and away from the roof. Her mind was clouded and fuzzy from all the crying so she simply allowed herself to be dragged away like a small child by their mother.

The pair came to a stop by the volleyball gyms and Hirose grasped her companion by the shoulders, staring into her eyes sternly. "Do not, under any circumstances, move a single inch."

Momoko nodded numbly and waited patiently. The evening air was cool against her bare skin and dried the leftover tears as she hugged her arms around her body in a futile attempt to warm herself up. Now that she had come to her senses, the temperature bothered her, no longer immune to its affects as a result of her distress.

She could faintly hear the voices in the gym, the sounds of balls smacking against the floor having stopped suddenly.

"What emergency?" One voice spoke loudly, laced with concern. "I can walk you home if you want, Sayori-chan?"

"No, no, I'm fine." She recognised the melodic tone of Hirose reply. "My friend needs my help, is all."

At her last words, Momoko felt the tears building up in her eyes and threatening to spill once more. Had she meant that? Friend? Surely not, they were just classmates, weren't they?

"Imada-san," She was broken out of her dazed stupor by the sudden attention. "Let's go."

Hirose' hand found its way into Momoko's and kept the two together, linking them. They had gotten no more than five meters before a voice yelled after them.

"Sayori-chan! You forgot your phone!"

Momoko froze dead in her tracks, terrified out of her wits. Oh no. Just as her shitty luck would have it.

"Ah, thank you. My parents would have killed me if I lost it, Oikawa-senpai."

"No prob-" The unmoving brunette beside the manager seemed familiar to him although he wasn't sure why. "-lem. See you tomorrow, Sayori-chan."

"Bye-bye!" Hirose turned back around and joined their hands again. "Sorry about that, I can be really forgetful sometimes."

"It's okay." Momoko forced a grin and attempted to fix her hair. "I never knew you were the manager for the boys' volleyball team. Do you like it?"

"It's one of the best decisions I've ever made." The unwavering eye contact and open body language suggested that she fully believed her statement and was wholly certain of her life choices.

After another few minutes of comfortable silence the brunette chose to break it. "Where are we going? Cause if you're gonna murder me in an alley I'd appreciate the prior knowledge. I won't put up a fight but my preferred method of death is poisoning if you can get your hands on some."

Dyed red hair swishing perfectly as she giggled, Hirose shook her head. "No I'm bringing you out for food, you look starved. When was the last time you ate?"

"This morning?"

"Liar."

One of the first, genuine smiles she'd made all week slid onto her lips. The other female' presence was strangely comforting. It kind of felt like she had a real friend.

"Thank you."

"For what, Imada-san?" Her head was tilted in questioning.

"For being nice to me."

"Stop it!" Pain exploded in Momoko's arm where she'd been hit. "You deserve this! Stop thanking me for being a decent human being."

"Okay."

Hirose's hand tightened around hers and it felt as though all the cold wind surrounding them had vanished. She'd never felt so cared for in years. It was nice. Hopefully, it was also something she could get used to.


	4. Relief

For the first time in what certainly felt like forever, Momoko woke up with a light feeling in her chest. The regular thoughts and worries seemed to have taken a vacation that morning. She found herself appreciating the faint sunlight streaming through her window, the warmth of her duvet around her and the general lack of stress and pressure. The brunette felt amazing.

Happily she'd pulled on her school uniform, ate a slice of toast for breakfast and brushed her teeth all while blasting music from her phone. Her hair had also chosen to behave that morning, the brush easily gliding through her black locks. When she looked at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she could hardly recognise herself, no dark circles, her eyes were clear and shining, the sickly pallor of her skin having disappeared.

The only possible way she could describe the way she felt that morning was as if her world of dull black and whites had been transformed into one full of colour and life.

The good mood faded the second she entered her classroom.

"Imada-chan, you look horrid!" Amano had gasped out, immediately diminishing all of Momoko's self-esteem. "Did you forget to put on makeup this morning?"

She had indeed gone without the makeup that day as she felt she didn't have to conceal anything but after Amano opened her mouth she felt naked and exposed without it.

"Oh yeah, I was in a bit of a rush." Lies.

"Don't worry, you don't look very different than normal." Inoue piped up, only making the brunette feel worse.

Their comments remained floating around her head for the next few classes, haunting her, plaguing her. She had tried to focus on the lessons but not one shred of information seemed to be going into her head and only proved to further embarrass herself when she was called upon to answer a question and found herself unable to talk.

The familiar blare of the lunch bell was a relief. She sat herself silently next to Amano and Inoue, giving little to no participation in the conversations. She hadn't even been paying attnetion to the topics they were discussing until a certain beautiful classmate called out to her.

"Imada-san!" Her heart dropped down to her feet and her face went crimson, hands beginning to tremble with fear. "How are you today? Amano-san, Inoue-san?"

"Good." She'd managed to choke out, guilt suffocating her. "You?"

"Brilliant. I just thought I'd check up on you. Bye-bye." With a cheerful wave, Hirose skipped off out of the classroom and around the corner.

Dead, terrifying, drowning silence consumed the trio for a full, thirty, painful seconds before any of them dared to speak.

"What was that?" Inoue's gaze was filled with disgust. "Stupid bitch can't take a hint."

"Ew, even being within a foot of her makes me sick to my stomach." Amano pretending to projectile vomit all over the floor before the pair turned their expectant stares to Momoko who shrank before them.

She was angry. Tired. Aggravated. Frustrated. She could no longer take it. She was done.

Calmly she rose to her feet and glared down.

"Fuck you." Her tone was level and scarily peaceful. "You're horrible people. To say such things about a girl as kind and amazing as Hirose-san is disgusting. You two think you're so cool just because you degrade others to fill the empty voids inside of you. It's pathetic."

She paused and allowed their stunned expressions to fuel her speech. Her eyes held nothing but pure, unfiltered rage.

"I hate myself for following you two around all these years, passively taking the abuse. I bet you two don't even know each other that well. Inoue-san, you don't have a clue that Amano-san thinks you're boring and ugly."

The cute girl shrunk under the poisonous glare of Inoue.

"But Amano-san, did you know that Inoue-san told me that she thinks you're fake and annoying? I hate to say it but I wholeheartedly agree. The point is, you're the worst people I've ever met. I may be pretty shitty for playing the loyal servant for so long but at least I still have some of my dignity. Hirose-san is a million times better than what you two could ever even dream of being which is why you feel the need to belittle her and anyone else who threatens your places at the top of the food chain."

Had Momoko not been concerned of getting into a lot of trouble she would have flipped the desk and poured their lunches over their immaculate hair but instead she merely flipped them off with both fingers and confidently stormed off.

Once out of sight, she placed a hand on her heart and felt it beating incredibly fast. While she had maintained a cool front during her rant she only then realised how terrified she actually was. She'd just thrown her only 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card out of the window. Without their protection she was a prime target for bullies. She just had to run her mouth.

But still, it felt good to have expressed her true feelings and given them a taste of their own medicine.

"Imada-san?" Her soul momentarily left her body as she jumped in fright.

Hirose stared at her with tear-filled eyes and took her hands up in her own.

"Thank you." Her smile was blinding and perfect. "For sticking up for me, that just have taken a lot of courage."

Momoko nodded dumbly and cast her eyes to her fidgeting hands. She had the hands of a worker, worn and calloused. Hirose's were small and dainty, fingernails painted a bold, shiny red. When was the last time Momoko had painted her nails? Must have been years ago. How sad.

"Do you...want to have lunch together?" The brunette's head shot up, eyes wide open like a deer stunned by car headlights, hardly alike to believe that Hirose wanted to hang out with her. They hadn't talked much the previous night, they mostly ate and sat in comfortable, soothing silence.

"Yes!" She'd said it just a bit too loud and a bit too fast to not come across as desperate and pathetic. "I'd like that very much, Hirose-san."

"Just call me Sayori."

Her heart stopped beating for a second and she almost forgot to breathe. Although she often was able to come across as quick-witted, smooth and cool, oftentimes the small lonely girl inside of her shone more brightly.

"O-okay. Then you can call me Momoko...Sayori-chan." Saying the given name of someone she hoped to consider a friend in such an informal way made her giddy with excitement. Not to mention that the mere idea of being referred to with her first name felt as though her feet had left the earth and instead she was soaring through the sky.

The pair made their way outside, taking a spot underneath a large oak tree. The grass was still soft despite the increasingly cold weather and the air held only a slight chill to it, not enough to encourage anyone to put on an extra layer.

They made conversation surprisingly easy. Momoko had never felt so involved in an exchange of words before and had expected to be weighed down with the pressure of not coming across as boring yet also not wanting to be perceived as annoying. However, talking to Hirose was the most natural thing she'd done in a long time.

Unfortunately for her, lunch just had to come to an end and they were forced to return to their classroom where furious glares were directed at them. If looks could kill, the pair would have been long dead, serving as some of the many victims of Inoue and her infamous temper.

The red hot glare remained in the back of her head throughout the rest of the lessons, burning into her scalp but she didn't care. She was done with them. Hirose had shown her more kindness over three days in comparison to the nine years she'd spent with Amano and Inoue. It was one of the most amazing feelings in the world, to finally feel like she had someone there for her and she couldn't wait to spill it all in her letter.

Oh right. Her letter. She'd forgotten how mortified she was after realising that she'd let loose all of her most personal feelings to some boy who didn't know her. Her cheery mood almost disappeared but she reminded herself that he hadn't a clue who she was. To him, she was 'Nobody', some random creep who was sending him strange letters.

Hirose and Momoko said their rushed goodbyes at the end of school, Momoko sprinting off the second the bell rang so that Inoue and Amano wouldn't have a chance to corner her. While they had been stunned at the moment of her outburst, they were now composed enough to beat the living shit out of her and the brunette planned to avoid it as actively as she did her other problems.

Back in her house she was greeted by her father, looking even more exhausted than the last time she'd seen him (the previous week), salt-and-pepper hair laying messily across his wrinkled forehead, eyes strained as they stressfully read through the bills.

"Greetings and salutations, dearest Otousan." Evidently he hadn't heard her enter the house and his eyes filled with shock before a familiar teasing grin settled on his face.

"I thought I told you to call me Batman."

"In your dreams, old man." She sat herself in the chair opposite him and dumped her schoolbag on the floor where it lay forgotten and abandoned.

"You're in a good mood today."

"Suppose I am." She absentmindedly began to braid a few strands of hair and smiled quietly to herself.

"Any reason for that?" He leaned forwards and faked a serious expression. "Is there a boy involved?"

His glasses slipped down his nose as he pretended to threaten her, ruining the effect he was trying to project.

"But I love him!" She played along as the cliche good girl with the bad boy boyfriend who her father doesn't like very much, hands clutching dramatically at her heart. "You can't tear us apart!"

He'd been about to answer in a similar fashion but the ringing of his phone interrupted their exchange. Momoko's face fell. She knew who it was.

"Sorry, its work." Back was the sad, stressed, old man, struggling to support his teenage daughter.

"It's okay." Lies.

She proceeded to drag herself to her bedroom, locking the door behind her as though she had something to hide. The brunette pulled off her school uniform and left it in a heap on the floor and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfort would always be her main priority. Next, out came the contacts as they were replaced by large, wire-framed glasses, the top of which barely brushing her bangs.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_Sorry about that last letter, I was a bit weird. Now that I think of it, I'm not that weird. I mean, there's seven billion people in the world, there's bound to be people far more eccentric than me._

_Anyways, I stood up to my now ex-friends today at lunch and I don't think I've ever felt this happy or relieved in my life. I made a new friend instead and she is honest to god, the most amazing person I've ever met. Sorry love, but you've been moved to second place. Whoops, was calling you 'love' just there weird? Fuck it I'm doing it anyways. It can be like 'our thing'._

_I didn't actually see you today, probably just as much of an asshole/idiot that you were yesterday. Offended? Suck it up fuckface. For a girl claiming to be in love with you I'm a real bitch to you, aren't I?_

_This letter feels rather short and lacklustre, doesn't it? I don't have much else to say though. Oh well, this is all you're getting. Besides, wouldn't want to come off as a desperate fangirl by writing a three-page letter._

_Sincerest regards,_  
 _Nobody_.

As quietly as she possibly could, Momoko unlocked her door and peered out into the dark hallway. Having always been a fan of horror movies, she loved the feeling of terror and a dark, silent house easily brought out such feelings.

"Otousan?" She called out, voice echoing eerily throughout the hall as she padded her way through the house. "I'm just going to get something from the shop!"

As she passed the open door to their kitchen she spotted a small sticky note left on the table. She didn't even need to read it to know that her father had been whisked off to work again. It was a common occurrence but she doubted she'd ever get used to the sinking feeling in her chest every time it happened.

Sighing heavily, the brunette slipped on her shoes and silently left her house, envelope concealed cleverly in the waistband of her sweatpants as she's anticipated a run-in with her nosy parent.

Since the boy lived across the street from her, the journey to his house wasn't particularly long. Although all the lights were off she always felt nervous when delivering the letters. Being caught in the act was by far the most humiliating way she could imagine being discovered as 'Nobody'.

With delicate but quick movements she'd opened the mailbox only to already find a letter inside. She hadn't planned to be intrusive that day but curiosity easily got the best of her. Their mail usually arrived early so they should have already taken in all their post for the day.

Glancing around she tentatively plucked up the envelope as though she believed it contained a bomb. However, upon reading the name upon the back, she decided that it was probably not a bomb.

It was addressed to her. Well, not exactly her. It was addressed to 'Nobody'. She doubted the family had any close friends called that so she could only assume that it was intended for her to read.

Momoko didn't exactly want to linger outside of their house for an extended period of time so she chose to dart off to the convenience store down the road so she could read it there without being mistaken for a stalker.

Thankfully she'd been smart enough to keep a bit of loose yen in her pocket, just enough to purchase instant noodles. Perhaps she'd been blessed with the luck of Nagito Komaeda. Constant bad luck being weighed out with an equal amount of good luck.

So she sat there, food laying in front of her, steam dissipating into the evening sky, shaky hands holding what she assumed was a reply.

"Fuck it."

She tore the envelope open with her fingers and ripped out the piece of paper inside.

_Dear Nobody (must I call you that? It feels horribly insulting),_

_This may sound like a pointless question but, are you okay? I mean, I know you're not. I think I can say that pretty certainly though considering it's the only thing I know about you. At first I assumed these letters were a prank from one of my friends but now I suppose my opinion has changed now._

_It probably won't mean much but I worry. I care. I know nothing about you and yet here I am, letting your letters consume my every thought. If you told me who you were, I could help. Give you a real friend, support you._

_Please, tell me not just because I'm desperate to know the identity of my secret admirer but because I can help you._

_From the idiot who is now extremely late for volleyball practice,_   
_Oikawa Tooru._

Her initial response was to dumbly put down the letter and shove food in her mouth. He'd actually replied. He'd taken precious time out of his day to write to her. Had she not been in public she would have shed a tear. It was heartwarming yet also heartbreaking to think that she would ever worry or care about her.

Momoko held the letter to her chest as though it was her most prized possession, expensive paper and words written in gold. A stupid smile slowly spread its way across her lips.

"Momo-chan!" Her head shot up at the sound of her new nickname and spotted Hirose jogging over in the signature turquoise and white tracksuit.

"What are you doing here?"

Rushing to hide the letter, the brunette stuffed it down her shirt and smiled back at her new friend. "Just planning a series of murders, you know, the usual."

"Hey Noodle Girl." Her heartbeat suddenly sped up at the appearance of Oikawa as he and Hirose took the other seats by her table.

"If it isn't my favourite pretty boy." She took another mouthful of her food before she realised what he'd referred to her as. "Wait...'Noodle Girl'? Really?"

"Well you never told me your name."

Hirose awkwardly glanced between the two as the rest of the boys' volleyball team lingered back. She wasn't sure what she could possibly label this encounter as. It wasn't exactly flirting. Had they met before? But he didn't know her name. Yet he knew her well enough to have a nickname. Ugh, all of the confusion was giving her a headache.

"And I never will."

"You're evil."

"You think I don't know that, love?" Shit. Did she actually just call him that? Did he even notice? Or care?

"Okay." Hirose stiffly rose to her feet. "I'm just going to buy the food. Have fun with...whatever this is."

The girl proceed to hastily drag a spiky haired boy into the shop, desperate to leave the incredibly strange situation.

"Seriously, what's your name?" He leaned forwards, eyes staring deeply into hers as though they'd betray her name to him. It took every fibre of willpower she possessed not to explode with a cherry red blush.

She also leaned forwards. "Are you really so dense that you didn't listen to Sayori-san whose called me by name in your presence before? Or are you just messing with me right now?"

She smirked at him as his eyes flitted down to the table and his ears went traffic-light red. Momoko hadn't put it past him to not realise.

"It's ridiculous." She giggled like a small child and rolled her dark eyes. "You're so smart and perceptive when you're on that stupid court and you can't even remember my name!"

"Oh stop flirting!" The pair's heads snapped towards a tall boy with messy black hair and thick eyebrows who'd called them out.

"Fuck off Mattsun!"

Suddenly feeling awkward and like the one jigsaw puzzle piece that didn't fit anywhere, Momoko stood up and brushed herself down despite there being no signs of dirt or dust on her. If she stayed around Oikawa any longer she was pretty sure her head would explode.

"As much as I love your company I must be off." She tossed the noodle container into the trash and winked at the team of boys as cooly as she could in her pyjamas. "Nice meeting you lot I suppose. Tell Sayori-chan I'll see her tomorrow."

She'd walked about three meters before stopping dead in her tracks and turning back around.

"Do any of you have a pen I can borrow?"

She didn't exactly feel like walking all the way back to her house just to get a pen to add on to her letter. Either way, she had to get her task done quickly as she knew Oikawa would get home soon and didn't want to risk him catching her.

One boy hesitantly reached into his bag and extracted a cheap ballpoint pen, handing it to her.

"Thanks, I'm totally gonna return this tomorrow. Bye-bye."

She successfully made her escape and once out of their visible range she took out her own letter and added on to the end, writing fast and messy considering that her surface was the side of a building.

_P.S Although it was not needed, thank you for the reply. You shouldn't worry or care for me though. I'm a Nobody, hence the alias. You know, just in case you couldn't tell. You can be pretty thick sometimes even if you are a genius volleyball player._

She stuffed it carelessly back into its envelope before sprinting as fast as she could for a girl whose only exercise was the occasional PE class when she didn't pretend to be already injured.

Momoko left her message for the boy in his mailbox and departed for her house once more, feeling giddy with happiness. She'd just flirted with the most amazing boy she'd ever met. Still she felt like she was a bit of an idiot during some of it. Why not just tell him her name? Was she that desperate to have a reason to talk to him? Pathetic.

Her house was still empty upon her arrival and she felt lonelier than ever. The dull ache in her chest returned swiftly and she suddenly felt like crying. He'd replied. Inoue and Amano were no longer a problem. Hirose was nice. Why would she cry? It was stupid to cry after such an amazing and eventful day.

Momoko slid her back down the wall and buried her face into her arms. It was there that she fell asleep only to be awoken hours later when her alarm went off in her bedroom.


	5. In Too Deep

Momoko found herself the happiest she'd been in years while hanging out with Hirose. They got along as though they'd been best friends for years. In all honesty, Momoko felt close enough to her new friend that she'd hide a corpse for her without a second thought. And with a little persuasion she'd commit the deed too.

The pair ate their lunch under a large oak tree just outside of the school building, conversing animatedly about a TV series they'd recently began watching together. Watching a show with a friend was incredibly more enjoyable than by one's lonesome even if it took longer time to finish.

About halfway through break time, Hirose had moved onto the subject of her role as manager of the boys' volleyball team.

"At this point it's just too much for me to handle by myself." She'd sighed wearily, burying her face in her hands. "There's too much to do and not enough time. If there were less members I wouldn't have such a hard time but more guys keep joining and there's not enough of me to keep up with all the work."

It was nice to see that Hirose had human problems, just like everyone else, however horrible it sounded to think such a thing. "Just look for another manager then. There's plenty of girls not in any clubs. Any of the team's fangirls would be delighted to take the job."

Another heavy sigh left her beautiful friend's mouth as she sadly shook her head. "I can't, they'd be too busy fawning over the members to actually do any work."

Momoko frowned in concern and furrowed her eyebrows. "That's a pretty big problem then."

She shovelled more food into her mouth as she pondered over possible solutions. She supposed that the job of manager wasn't exactly the most appealing. It was pretty much just waiting hand and foot on a bunch of sweaty guys, organising practice matches and cleaning up equipment. The brunette was sure that a naive first year could easily be manipulated into taking the job but she knew Hirose wouldn't agree to anything against her morals.

"Hey, Momo-chan."

Her head perked up at the sound of her name as she swiped a grain of rice off her cheek and hummed questioningly.

"You aren't in any clubs, are you?" A sly smile spread across the redhead's face, suggesting that she could be a lot more sneaky than one would have originally presumed.

"Um, no." Momoko, being her thick self, wasn't catching on. "Why do you ask?"

"Would you like to-"

It clicked.

"No!" She found it hard to make herself look firm and strict with her messy hair and puffed out cheeks. "No way!"

"Please." Hirose propelled herself forwards and grasped her friend's hands pleadingly. "Just do a trial run. For me. One week, just one and if you don't like it, you can quit."

She hesitated that time but hardened her gaze. "Still a no, Sayori-chan."

Silence fell between the pair for a good thirty seconds before either of them spoke up again.

"Not even for your best friend?"

Momoko felt her resolve instantly melting and couldn't help but defeatedly nod her head in agreement. Afterwards she cursed her weak spine and pitiful tolerance to being referred to as someone's best friend. She couldn't help it, after suffering years of loneliness and struggling through an absence of support and love she felt obligated to please the first person to offer the smallest sign of care for her.

It had gotten to the point where she was desperate, starved and on the brink of madness for any sort of friendship at all. She supposed it was the reason she'd tagged around with Inoue and Amano for so long, putting up with the constant abuse just for the tiniest taste, however fleeting, of appreciation. That had never happened but at the time she'd been so starved that she'd been unable to see it clearly. And if she had she quickly shoved it to the back of her mind.

"Thank you, Momo-chan."

The way her nickname sounded was beautiful. Most would have cringed at such a childish term but she was glad of it. It was cute, something she'd always wished she was and a girly nickname was the closest she believed she'd ever get.

"Practices start every morning at half six and again straight after school. There's also no practice on the weekend so the members can relax which we find motivates them to try even harder when they do play."

The sight of Hirose's bright blue eyes made her feel slightly more reassured in her decision. It wasn't like a week of helping out would kill her.

It was only after returning to class after the bell had rung that she remembered just who exactly was in the volleyball club and began to regret all her life choices so far. She could barely last a few minutes with Oikawa without saying something stupid or having her head spontaneously combust. Then she'd trouble him further by spraying her brain all over his perfect face. That did certainly not sound ideal.

Momoko spent the rest of her day consumed with worry. She knew herself better than anybody else and she was absolutely positive that she'd embarrass herself. She found herself unable to concentrate in class, too busy being an idiot and stressing over the smallest details. She couldn't just actively avoid Oikawa, he'd know something was up nor could she behave like a normal functioning human being around him.

Before she knew it or had a chance to come up with some lame excuse, she was being dragged outside towards the gyms by Hirose who was happily ranting on about how much she knew the brunette would enjoy herself. However anxious she was, it was nice to see Hirose excited. The only way one could describe the sight of her smile was the warm rays of light which radiated from the sun in the early morning as it glistened off dewdrops.

Momoko stood shiftily next to her friend, breathing shallow, chest tight, stomach knotted with nerves. All eyes were fixed on her figure, including the smug gaze belonging to the captain of the team.

"This is my friend," Hirose beamed blindingly. "She's agreed to do a trial for position of another manager."

A muscle twitched involuntarily in the corner of her right eye and her mouth formed a forced grin. A hard nudge in her ribs suggested that she was supposed to introduce herself. What was her name again?

"Hey," She took a shaky step forwards but kept her gaze collected so as not to reveal her true feelings. "My name is Imada Momoko, you should remember my name cause you'll need it for the police report later."

She felt slightly better as some of the boys snickered into their hands. Hopefully it would take them a while to figure out how much of a loser she was if she was funny.

One by one the boys continued with the introductions, Hirose was correct when she'd said that there was a lot of them. Although she knew little to nothing about volleyball she doubted they needed so many players. How she'd remember all their names she wasn't sure.

Finally, Oikawa who had stood patiently at the end of the line, found it was his turn to speak.

"Oikawa Tooru." He flashed a god-like grin her way. "But you already knew that."

She barely acknowledged him, much to his frustration, with a simple lift of her eyebrows before moving her attention to Coach Irihata who had begun to list the basics of her role as manager.

Was she serious? Flat out ignoring him? No, she was probably just messing with him to piss him off and he was not about to give her the satisfaction so he unclenched his fists and returned to practice, driving all thoughts of the girl out of his head.

Momoko had spent the hour and a half helping Hirose reorganise the storage closet. In any normal circumstance she would have complained but she was thankful of being able to stay away from Oikawa. It also helped that Hirose proved a great distraction as the pair made back and forth puns for the duration of their job.

Although the closet was dark and dusty, the brunette thought it held a certain comfort to it. The air was warm in there but not suffocating and when fully cleaned would make a great hiding spot when one was sick of people and just wanted to watch Netflix on their phone without being bothered. Of course it was also good for storing equipment she supposed as that was its original and intended function.

The two girls had finally finished their job about five minutes before the training session was set to end. Momoko was pretty certain she could deal with the boy for five minutes. Sure, her heart ached painfully every time she looked at him but five minutes would not kill her. Probably.

Although he'd refused to let the girl get into his head, he'd been easily defeated once he spotted her exit the storage closet laughing. His resolve was evidently proven weak and pathetic against her smile.

"Hey." Oh god. Could he have said anything lamer?

She stopped her task of collecting stray balls from the floor and peered up at him. She wasn't considered very short yet he still towered over her. "Hey."

"Are you coming with the rest of the team to get food later?" He began to help her so he wouldn't be accused of slacking off by Iwaizumi.

Momoko shook her head. "No, I have homework to do." That was such a lie. She hadn't done her homework in ages. Teachers didn't particularly care so long as she didn't burn the school down.

"It won't take long and you live pretty nearby." He pouted childishly. "Please Momo-chan!"

She glared at him, face bright crimson and hot enough to be able to cook an egg. "Don't call me that!"

Weakly she threw the volleyball which had rested in her hands at him, successfully hitting him square in the face.

"Sayori-chan does!" He whined. God, he really could be such a child sometimes.

She rolled her dark eyes at him. "And are you Sayori-chan?"

The brunette took his silence as a no.

"Therefore you don't call me Momo-chan."

"What can I call you then?"

Avoiding his gaze so as not to explode from the sheer beauty of his face and strutted off slowly. "Never."   
~

Once back in the safety of her own house Momoko was finally able to breathe normally again. That boy was surely going to send her into cardiac arrest before the trial week was up.

She hadn't known any of the other volleyball club members besides Kyotani Kentaro who had been in her class since first year even though they'd never exchanged a single word in all that time. She'd also recognised Iwaizumi Hajime who Amano had been obsessed with for two weeks, an all-time record for her.

The rest of the boys seemed nice enough and she would have happily accepted the position of manager to help out Hirose had Oikawa not been on the team.

She went about her evening the same way she always did, watching stupid conspiracy videos on her phone, procrastinating on cleaning the house, doodling aimlessly on her arms and wondering when her next mental breakdown would occur. It had all gone according to plan until her phone began to ring halfway through the video ' _Queen Elizabeth is a Cannibal?_ '.

Assuming it was her father as he was the only person who ever called her, she picked up without checking the Caller ID. Later she realised how much of a mistake that was.

"Kelbourne Mortuary, you snuff 'em, we stuff 'em."

The silence on the other end confused her and she wondered if the signal was okay. Her and her father always answered each other's calls with something funny, it had become kind of a contest to see who could come up with the most unique way to answer.

"Otousan? You there?" 

"Last time I checked I didn't have any children."

Shit. She recognised that voice all too well. How the hell did he get her number? Momoko could practically feel her soul abandoning her physical body. She was dead. So fucking dead.

"Oikawa-senpai..." She almost fell out of her chair in pure terror. "How'd you get my number?"

"Sayori-chan."

She should have guessed as much. How else would he have gotten it? She literally only had two contacts and she doubted he would've tracked down her father.

"Oh." God did she sound stupid.

"How's homework going?" His tone was playful and teasing. It suggested he didn't believe her lie in the first place and had seen through her as though she was transparent. A ghost. A nobody.

"Good until you interrupted me!"

"You are such a liar."

"And you're persistent, what's new pumpkin?"

The conversation lasted longer than she'd hoped but the words began to flow more smoothly as time progressed and she became slightly more comfortable. It was much easier to talk to him over the phone rather than in person. He couldn't taunt her with his perfect hair and perfect eyes and the perfect way his eyebrows creased when he teased her. The brunette hated it when he did that. Yet it was also equally amazing.

She really was in too deep.


	6. Confusion and Friendships

_*Quick Warning: This chapter contains violence. If you are not comfortable with that feel free to skip over it.*_

The next two days were pure and utter torture for the young girl. She was conflicted in avoiding Oikawa like he was the plague or attempting to talk to him like a normal human being. She doubted her capability in functioning normally so she opted for her first choice.

However, since the universe hated her, it made that task incredibly difficult. It was as though he was around every corner, waiting to murder her with a dazzling smile and generic pickup line. Momoko was sure that she was going mental, the fabric of her sanity being torn haphazardly and without care. She chose to voice her frustrations in yet another letter.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_Are you offended by me referring to you as such? I'd hope so since it's true. It's becoming harder and harder as the hours pass not to explode in front of you. That wouldn't be a pretty sight. Imagine my blood trickling down the school walls, organs spilling out from open wounds, hair matted with blood and thoroughly traumatising anyone who comes across the sight._

_Oh wait, you can't imagine that, you don't know the colour of my hair. It's black, boring plain old black. I suppose it doesn't hurt to reveal one characteristic of mine since the majority of the Japanese population possess dark hair._

_But the point of wanted to make was how much you piss me off. It's kinda like you're going out of your way just to be extra cute. Stupid little shit you are. Helping that first year with her books didn't help either. It feels like you tossed me into a never ending pit of unrequited love with a friendly smile and a cup of soup for the journey._

_I haven't seen my dad all week. Some stupid problem in another department which they're too fucking thick to fix themselves therefore forcing my father to abandon me._

_When we're kids we like to think that all men are born equal. That's sadly not true, a young boy born into a wealthy family with a large company is sure to have far more brilliant life opportunities than a starving young girl from Bangladesh who fights for her life every day. And who do you think is set to live longer? To prosper more? Which one was planted in the fertile soil, rich with nutrients and which was planted in the rocks where it's survival of the fittest?_

_Sorry, I'm not too sure where I was going with that, I tend to get carried away when talking about other people's problems, complaining and never doing anything about it._

_But yeah, the original intent of this letter was to tell you to kindly fuck off instead of going on a tangent about inequality and shit. Sorry. Excess cursing too so I guess that warrants another apology. Sorry x2._

_Yours Sincerely,_   
_Nobody._

While reading the newest letter, the boy couldn't help but be endeared by this 'Nobody'. They were funny, had opinions and evidently an overactive imagination judging by the mentions of their guts spilling out of them and painting the walls red with blood. He was desperate to meet them.

While Oikawa's interest in the writer of the letters he couldn't help but also be intrigued by the new manager. Last practice she'd flat out told him to 'Piss off' and threw a volleyball at his face and the next moment she's begun telling him bad dog puns. She was a mixed bag, confusing, funny, dorky and hardworking. The fact that she was pretty attractive from some (all) angles didn't help his festering crush.

No. It was not a crush. They never ended well for him. All in the same way too. It would be fine for the first few weeks until they started complaining that he didn't spend enough time with them before eventually breaking up with him and shattering his already chipped heart once again.

If Momoko could hear his thoughts she'd probably say something across the lines of: _"Well not literally, if that was the case you'd be dead and my life would be a whole lot easier"_.

He laughed to himself as a mini her had appeared in his head, cheeks puffed out and tinged pink the way they did when she was teasing him, same two strands of hair sticking up in the way they always did.

Admiring her from afar certainly wouldn't do much damage now would it?   
~~

Momoko and Hirose ate lunch in the place they always did, underneath the large oak tree (nicknamed 'Mayu' after their favourite character in the series Legal High, Mayuzumi Machiko) right outside the school building.

That particular day they had been discussing the probability of death by potassium consumption when the universe chose the perfect moment to screw with them. Well not exactly the universe but rather it was the infamous Inoue and Amano who had chosen the perfect moment to screw with them.

"If it isn't my two favourite _sluts_." Amano smiled cheerfully at the pair, as though she'd asked about the weather, Inoue standing behind her, eyes blazing with fury.

"What do you want?" Hirose stood up calmly, the only sign of fear being a small tremble in her voice and a step backwards.

"Just wanna have a friendly chat." The girl's voice was poisonous and her gaze was filled with anger.

"Sorry," Momoko placed herself slightly in front of her friend. "We're a bit busy right now."

"Let's cut to the chase." Inoue took three long strides forwards, looking angry enough to tear somebody's head right off their body. "We're a bit pissed off with you, to be honest."

The brunette felt herself wanted to hide under her bed at home, shrinking under their glares. "Really? Never would've guessed."

"I mean, you can't really blame us." Amano's usual girly act had completely vanished at that point, mask having been stored away to reveal her true colours.

"Wanna bet?" Her confidence grew slightly as Hirose placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I mean, we were _friends_ , Imada-chan." The blonde ignored the previous comment. "Of course we're angry that you so suddenly ditched us and embarrassed us in front of the whole class!"

That was it. Momoko was sick and tired of being complacent, quiet, the observer. She felt true, pure rage for the first time in ages and let it consume her. Who even cared if she got in trouble? This was something she had to do. Something she'd needed for years.

"We were never friends." Her voice was low and shook with raw emotion. "I was an accessory, a servant. Neither of you ever gave two shits about me. And the reason you're mad is not because I've 'ditched' you it's because you're humiliated. Because you're both too wrapped up in other people's stupid opinions about you."

Momoko, caught up in her own words and annoyingly unnecessary feelings, began to feel hot fat tears streaming down her cheeks. Whenever she got really angry she always started crying. She didn't know why. It was embarrassing though because she cried when she was sad too, sometimes when she was really happy and when she laughed too hard.

"Get over yourselves." She snarled. "Five years from now you won't even remember half the stuff that so important to you now. You'll be too busy struggling with debt, a cheating husband and annoying children. Who you are in high school has no impact on your future whatsoever. Do you think companies will be more likely to choose you for a job if you had lots of friends when you were younger? N-to the fucking-O! Deep down do you even-"

Inoue threw the first hit, expensive ring catching on Momoko's lip and tearing the skin. The brunette stopped talking out of shock and sudden pain. A shaky hand lifted up to her lip. Thick, crimson blood stained her fingertips like paint.

"Shut up!" The basketball captain drew back her first to deal another blow to the stunned brunette, eyes ablaze with fury.

Momoko braced herself for the second punch but it never came. Instead she found herself staring at Hirose's back. The redhead had stepped in front of her, arms spread out wide and head hung low as a few drops of blood fell onto the grass.

Hitting her was one thing, hitting Hirose was crossing the line. She knew well that she could easily be expelled based on her next decision but didn't even care at that point. Her mind was clouded red.

She'd darted around her injured friend and swiftly kicked Inoue's shin, causing the taller girl to collapse to the ground. Amano gasped before suddenly grabbing a fistful of black hair, grinning as Momoko cried out in pain.

"Sayori-chan!" She struggled to get out amidst the blinding pain coming from her scalp and bust lip. "Go!"

Hirose only hesitated for a split second before sprinting off back towards the school in search of help. Momoko was left outnumbered and overpowered but refused to submit willingly like the loyal dog she once was. Instead she tried her best to fight back despite the lack of combat skills or even sharp fake nails like her attackers to use as a weapon.

She didn't last long till they managed to get her on the ground, kicking mercilessly as she tried to cover her face. The blows had stopped hurting at some point as she lost track of time and her whole body became numb. It was strange, kinda like an out-of-body experience, as though she were watching the scene unfolding as a bystander. She didn't even care, it had begun to feel like she deserved it. This was her repentance.

"Oi!" A sudden voice snapped her back into her body and everything hurt. "What's the fuck are you doing?"

Struck with terror the pair of girls sprinted away. Momoko honestly couldn't think of anyone that they'd be so scared of besides the devil himself. Or perhaps they were actually buddies. It seemed plausible.

Hirose knelt down on her knees beside the bloodied girl, hands clasped over her mouth as her body shook with sobs. She only understood why they ran once the 'help' showed his face.

"Get up." Kyotani grumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. So yeah, scared of the devil, scared of Kyotani, same thing. Made sense.

"Sorry." She spat a clot of blood onto the grass and inwardly cringed. Ew. Hirose helped her onto her feet, eyes brimming with concern as the sobbing continued.

"Why are you crying, Sayori-chan?" Momoko true her best to move the hair that was stuck to her forehead with sweat away, efforts proving themselves to be futile. "Does your cut hurt? I can go look for some antiseptic wipes and bandages if you want."

Hirose half-laughed, half-cried. "You're the one who's hurt!"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not." The male interrupted with a deadly glare which looked as though it could kill gods. "You look like shit."

"So no different than usual then?" She was more than surprised when she thought she heard him laugh a bit. Hirose's sobs only grew louder.

Momoko hated other people crying even though she herself did it more often than not. It made her uncomfortable, especially when it was someone she cared about. It didn't help that she didn't know how to make people _stop_ crying so she just went on about something stupid in a desperate effort to cheer them up. Bad jokes had helped her father so why weren't they helping Hirose?

"Momo-chan!" Tears seemingly never ending, she wrapped her arms round the brunette's shoulders, clinging into her like a child would their mother after being lost in the supermarket.

"I'm okay!"

"No you're not!"

"You're really not."

"And you're really not helping, Kyotani-kun."

He'd suddenly whipped out his phone and taken a picture of her, shoving the screen in her face.

"You need to go to a doctor."

She could already feel her already empty purse grow lighter. Could she afford that? Probably not. Did she even have health insurance? It wasn't too bad in Japan, the government took responsibility for seventy percent of medical costs but she still doubted that she had the funds for the remaining thirty percent.

But she did look bad. Momoko could admit that much. Her whole face was smeared red, cuts in her lip, cheeks and a long gash on her forehead from the fake nails. Her uniform was ripped too, probably having caught on a branch or something. She couldn't buy a new one. She could also already feel a bruise blossoming on her hand from where Inoue had stomped on it. Hopefully he'd delete that picture soon,

"I can do it myself." She insisted, waving her hands in denial. "I have a first aid kit at home. Anyways, it's not as bad as it looks, half of it's just my face!"

Before she knew it she's been pulled away from Hirose's hold and instead thrown over Kyotani's shoulder. It took every ounce of her willpower not to scream profanities, knowing that such an action would probably result in her being thrown on the ground.

"I'm bringing you to a clinic." She could practically hear him rolling his eyes. Cheeky bastard.

"We can't just ditch class!" She'd protested, not caring all that much about actually missing lessons and more about looking as though she was being kidnapped by an angry delinquent (not like she was judging the boy by his appearance or whatever).

"We can and we are. I'm paying." His tone was strained like a rubber band pulled so tight it was a hairs breadth away from snapping.

She'd immediately opened her mouth to protest but realised that he'd just get angry with her. So instead of opening her big fat mouth and landing herself in more trouble, Momoko waved morosely at Hirose as she was hauled away.  
~~

She'd always hated the smell of hospitals, doctors' offices, clinics, even packs of band-aids. The last time she'd been in a clinic was years ago with her mother, getting a vaccine. The young girl had been held down by four nurses before they'd managed to get the needle anywhere near her. She'd had to get it done in the clinic as when they'd attempted to give it to her in school she'd overturned a table and locked the nurse in the classroom where it was being held. Momoko had then proceeded to flush the key down the toilet and hide in the school car park.

Even aged seventeen she wrinkled her nose upon entry of the surprisingly empty clinic, smell of hand sanitiser and what she guessed death would smell like hitting her hard.

"Sit down." And suddenly she was abandoned as the boy left her to fill out some forms or something which was probably more important than hearing her complain.

She wasn't overly concerned about the fact that she was beat up, more worried about how much medical supplies would cost. Momoko wasn't particularly knowledgable on injuries but suspected that the gash on her forehead would become infected easily if she didn't buy a salve for it. Where would she get something like that? A pharmacy? But they could be pretty pricey and she didn't really want to talk to anyone about what kind would be best for it in the fear of getting swindled into buying the whole shop.

The brunette took to distracting herself by doodling moustaches and glasses on everyone in one of the magazines, a habit she'd had pretty much her whole life. It was therapeutic and she still found it funny despite the immaturity of the situation.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She was so startled that she practically felt her soul momentarily leave her body.

"Reading a magazine."

He snatched it out of her hands and narrowed his eyes at her graffiti. She could have sworn that she saw a fleeting grin on his lips before it was replaced by the usual scowl. Did he actually think she was funny? Either that or he was pleasantly amused by idiotic people.

"Come on, the doctor said she'll take you now."

Needless to say, being fixed up was painfully awkward. She didn't like the random lady (trained professional she corrected herself) washing her face and asking personal questions. When Momoko found out that she need five stitches she was pretty close to committing a crime in order to escape.

She was held down by Kyotani and the receptionist as she received the anaesthesia shot, screaming and kicking. Had she put up that much of a fight against Inoue and Amano, she may have won. She had to be held down again as the doctor stitched her up. She hated it, she could hear the needle and thread going through her skin, looping in and out.

When it was all over, the now exhausted doctor tentatively handed her a lollipop and a prescription for some medication she knew she would not buy.

"Well that was fun." Although the experience was mildly traumatising for everyone in the room, Momoko felt better on that she didn't have dried blood caked on her face like foundation although there was still some in her hair.

"Are you kidding?" Kyotani looked like he was about to murder her.

"Sorry, did you want a lollipop?"

"What do you think?" Yeah, totally about to strangle her.

"No?"

"Yes!"

"Yes you wanted a lollipop or was that an affirmation to my guess that you did not possess any desire for a lollipop?"

He sped up his pace as though trying to get away from her. She didn't blame him. She could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"Are we friends?" Okay, maybe she enjoyed annoying him a bit. He looked funny when his eye twitched. "I'll buy you a lollipop if you want."

"Momo-chan!" The breath was knocked out of her chest as Hirose crushed her in a bear hug. For such a cute and dainty girl she sure was strong. "Thank goodness you're okay."

The two second years had been spotted by the rest of the boys' volleyball club outside the usual convenience store. It was pretty late, had they been waiting there that whole time? Surely not, it was just a coincidence, they wouldn't care that much for her.

Suddenly there were two large palms cupping her cheeks and chocolate brown eyes examining her injuries. Before she died of embarrassment she'd quickly pulled herself away from him.

"What happened to you?" He sounded almost angry. It was kinda scary, kinda hot.

"Got in a fight. Got a lollipop. Great day so far." She tried her best to downplay how flustered she actually was after he'd cupped her face like that.

"With who?" Oh shit, he sounded like he was ready to murder someone. She inched closer to Kyotani. She didn't think a day would ever come where she was more scared of Oikawa than she was of the literal devil.

"None of your business." She huffed, choosing to blank him for a bit before she became delusional and convinced herself that he cared about her wellbeing,

"You need to take better care of yourself." Iwaizumi had chastised her, the usual steely gaze softening slightly. "We're your friends, you know? It's not nice finding out your friend got into a fight."

Her playful and teasing attitude dropped. They were friends? Really? Was that how they actually viewed her? A friend. That sounded so nice, however sappy and cliche. Could she believe it though? She certainly wanted to.

"Sorry."


	7. Trickster

The very day after Momoko got into the fight, Oikawa decided that he'd start looking for the writer of the letters. He hadn't told anyone about this person in fear of sounding mad. He began his quest by compiling a list of things he knew about the sender.   
_1\. They have black hair._  
 _2\. Father works a lot._  
 _3\. They have ridiculously low self-esteem._  
 _4\. They go to my school._

The list was pitifully short and four traits didn't help to narrow down any possible suspects. He doubted it was one of his fangirls as they tended to be a bit more upfront about their feelings yet it was still a possibility. The letters were driving him mad, slowly yet steadily taking over his life.

_Dear Nobody (please can I call you something else?),_   
_I decided I might as well continue to reply to your letters. Feels a lot less one-sided that way. Still, I don't think I've ever exchanged letters with someone before, it's a bit old-fashioned nowadays. Even my grandparents prefer to use text these days._

_Anyways, tell me about yourself. I mean, there's hundreds of people in our school, revealing a few details about yourself wouldn't hurt. I'm simply curious. It'd feel more like I'm conversing with an actual person that way too. I don't even know your gender (not that it matters to me). When I think of you in my head all I see is a blurry figure with black hair. As you can hopefully understand it's pretty frustrating._

_There's not much going on in my life right now. The volleyball club has a new manager. Well she still has yet to agree to anything so far but I think she'll stay. I'm pretty irresistible. Do you know her? Imada Momoko, she's really funny but sometimes she says things that really confuse me and other times she's just plain old frustrating. I feel like you'd get along with her, similar styles of humour._

_But on a more serious note, I wasn't kidding when I said if you needed to talk to anyone I'd be there. I'm glad you ditched your old friends though, they sound like real pains in the ass. You're much better off without them. If you just told me who you were though things would be much easier and I could be your friend._   
_From your dearest asshole,_   
_Oikawa Tooru._

Momoko laughed when she first read the letter. For someone who was considered to be a volleyball prodigy, he could be incredibly, remarkably dense. Still, finding out he thought she was funny made her chest heat up and made her feel like she was going into cardiac arrest.

It was funny, no it was hilarious, that he thought he could so easily convince her to forfeit her identity. Would leading him on a wild goose chase be horrible of her? Fuck it, she already knew that she was going to hell if such a place even existed and just the thought of tricking him caused excited giggles to fall from her lips, making her sound just a little bit crazy, laughing at nothing in her dark and empty house.

Worst case scenario, he got pissed at her and she died of heartbreak. Could that actually happen. The brunette took a second to google it on her phone. Not in the mood for reading through the long article she assumed it was possible (but probably very rare) and chose to have the first early night she'd had in years.  
~~

The following morning she'd showed up to early volleyball practice, going to meetings was becoming ingrained in her daily schedule, something she wasn't sure whether was a good thing or not. It scared her, however, at how she was beginning to perceive the volleyball club as people she actually enjoyed being around. The were stupid, granted, but treated her well. Maybe continuing on as manager wouldn't be such a hindrance.

While unboxing a package filled with new balls to be pumped up, she'd been approached by The Great Idiot himself, Oikawa Tooru. For once in his life he was silent for a few seconds, look of worry painting his features, before a childish smile took its place.

"Momo-chan!"

She playfully glared at him. "I told you not to call me that. You deaf now or something?"

"Sorry." He didn't sound very apologetic judging by the carefree grin and loose body language but she chose not to get into an argument so early in the morning.

"If you aren't going to help me," Momoko scooted further down the bench, bringing the box with her. "Then get back to practice. Wouldn't want Coach yelling at you, now would we?"

"Quick question." He'd suddenly leaned forwards, startling the girl as she tossed a deflated ball at his face with a small squeak of fright. Undeterred, he continued his train of thought. "Do you have many friends?"

He gaze grew suspicious as she began to pump air into another volleyball. "I'm not exactly the most popular girl thanks to my ordinary appearance and personality but I have a few I suppose." 

Lies. She had exactly one person she was allowed to call a friend. If stuffed animals which had been hoarded since childhood counted as friends then she guessed she had fourteen friends. Yet still such an underwhelming number.

"Do you know any who-"

She cut him off with the coldest look she could summon. "Why do you care? It's my business, last time I checked, not yours."

He shrank under her steely gaze. So she could be pretty scary when she wanted to be too. A mixed bag indeed.

"Just curious."

"You are so bad at lying." His shoulders relaxed as she returned to her usual demeanour, the previous frost having dissipated. "Tell the truth Assikawa-senpai."

Momoko wondered if she lost points because she recycled the insult from Iwaizumi or if the added honorific made it classy and ironic. A bit of both? "I won't judge." Normally she would considering that was pretty much what humans were programmed to do. But sitting in front of this strange, childish yet also scarily mature boy, she knew she could never harshly judge him for anything he'd do.

Oikawa weighed out his options in his head before spilling all. If he told her he doubted she'd go off telling everyone nor did she seem the type to make fun of him for it. In a different setting perhaps some light teasing but the glint in her eye suggested she'd read the situation well. If he withheld the information there was always the chance she'd feel betrayed and as though he didn't trust her.

"Promise you won't tell." He held out his pinky finger with the most serious face she'd ever seen in her life. It took every ounce of her willpower not to laugh as she hooked their pinkies round each other like small children often would to seal petty secrets.

"My lips are sealed."

"I have a secret admirer," he began quietly, leaning in close and filling her head with giddy fog. "They go by the alias 'Nobody' and I'm trying to figure out who they are."

Momoko furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Quick question, why?"

"I want to be their friend."

It almost felt as though she had been stabbed right in her heart. Friend-zoned both as Momoko and Nobody. Her luck had truly maxed out that time.

"My question still stands."

"I'm worried." He admitted, lowering his voice even more. "Some of the things they write make me feel bad for them."

The brunette felt as though her heart was about to burst as well as all her secrets in that moment but she also tasted something bitter upon realising that it was out of pity. She loathed the very idea of pity with every inch of her soul. She'd always known that their relationship would always be one-sided love but the thought of him pitying her made her nauseous.

Momoko remained in a bad mood for the remainder of the day, for once not cracking any bad puns or one-liners. Hirose grew worried when she didn't even take the opportunity to make an overused but still classic 'That's what she said' joke. It was as though the girl wasn't even there, just an afterimage, lacking any substance.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_Since you're so curious I suppose I can enlighten you on a few select details. I might as well come clean considering I've kept such secrets from my beloved for so long._

_You see, to be completely truthful with you, I am a fifty-six year old woman. I am currently residing in Kyoto with my husband, patiently waiting for my youngest child to get a job and move out. My life is dull and the only thing I ever have to look forward to is retirement and death._

_Writing these letters to you was merely a way to relieve myself of boredom. Don't take it personally dearie._

_If you couldn't tell just now, I'm kidding. Just a bit miffed off that you honestly think I'm stupid enough to reveal my identity to you so easily. It's rather insulting that you think so little of my deception skills. So yeah, fuck you, you just got tricked by the girl who's never gotten a grade higher than a B before._

_But seriously, don't try and find out who I am. Trust me when I say that you'll only be hurting me, giving me false hope. Even you replying to these has blinded me from my judgement and common sense. Please, don't lead me on. Just let me continue writing to you like this, hidden behind a curtain like a coward. The coward that I am._

_Maybe one day I will tell you who I am. Maybe one day I'll slip up and spill all my secrets. Who knows? Not me, I'm not fucking Batman. Is Batman the one who can see the future? Is there even a superhero who can see the future? I can't remember, I used to read loads of comics when I was a kid but sadly I grew out of it._

_Oh well, to make a long story short, you've been sufficiently tricked by the Goddess herself. Kneel before your queen, foolish mortal. For fucks sake, I can't even make up my mind whether I'm a goddess or a queen. Suppose I can be both. Does seem like a lot of responsibility though and I'm pretty lazy._

_And to answer your question, yes, I do know Imada Momoko. She's okay, I guess, don't talk to her much though. You sound weirdly invested in her though, if I may add. Maybe dial it back a little. Stalker._

_Yours sincerely,_   
_Nobody._

She'd laughed to herself evilly while first writing out the letter. Momoko thought herself a right genius for coming up with a life story for the woman she'd pretended to be. Reading over it, however, she realised how cringey it was. She inwardly recoiled at every word. Oh well, she'd never exactly claimed to be a poet.

Disregarding the overall awkwardness of the letter, the brunette chose to let him read it. Let him realise how annoying she was and that the quest to reveal her identity was worthless and a waste of his precious time. Let him think of her only as the cowardly Nobody, admiring him from afar. When she thought about it like that, it made her feel like a total creep. Perhaps she was. Her new identity. Fun.

Carefully, she stored the letter safely in her schoolbag, pressed between the pages of her Physics book. If anyone else found it, she was a dead woman. Floating on top of the fish tank, dead.

Then, feeling much better after letting out her frustrations in the form of anonymous letters, Momoko drifted through her next classes. She pretended to be diligently taking notes when not a single ounce of information was actually being absorbed into her brain. She'd regret it later, she knew it, but that was a future her problem. Presently, she could store it away in the back of her mind only for it to resurface in the middle of the night, keeping her awake and thoroughly annoyed.

After classes she'd followed Hirose to the girls' bathrooms, leaving the classroom as soon as possible so as to avoid another encounter with Inoue and Amano. The pair changed into their managers uniforms (Momoko having borrowed one of her friend's spares due to not having an official position on the team yet) and proceeded to face each other down to the gyms.

Without her even realising it, Momoko had become attached to the club. She found herself wanting to continue coming to practices and to hang out with them. For once, she'd actually felt like she belonged somewhere, however cheesy it sounded, like she was wanted. Around those stupid boys she did not feel like a burden or invisible. She felt happy.

The one problem that stood in her way was Oikawa. She could barely keep a cool head around him as it was but seeing him twice a day for over an hour was absolute torture. The brunette couldn't avoid him any longer before somebody figured something out. The trial week was almost finished. Soon she'd have to go back to having the one friend, going straight home after school, not having to wake up at the crack of dawn and waving goodbye to the people she desperately wanted to consider friends.

Fuck it.

"Sayori-chan," Momoko stopped dead in her tracks, grasping her friend by her arm, voice quiet and hesitant. "I want to continue being a manager for the team. Is...is that okay?"

A loud yet girlish laugh had spilled from Hirose's lips, bubbling up as she clutched at her stomach. "Of course you can, Momo-chan. I was the one who asked you to do this in the first place."

The brunette hid a grin as she was lightly smacked on the arm. She didn't even care anymore. So what if she had a crush on a boy? Most girls did. Why did she have to be the one to avoid him? She wasn't about to play into the stereotypical shy, nerdy girl with a crush on the most popular boy in school. No, Momoko was going to hold her head high and tackled her problems instead of running away like she usually did.

"I'll go tell Coach about this," Hirose jumped up and down on the spot, cherry red hair bouncing as she did so. "Thank you so much for this, you're really helping with reducing the workload."

She felt a pang of guilt in her chest. Her staying was for far more selfish reasons than helping out her best friend. Well, she never claimed that she wasn't problematic.

"It's fine, anything I can do to help after you've done so much for me." Okay, that she actually meant. Momoko felt eternally grateful and indebted towards her new friend and cared more for her in the past few weeks of knowing her than she'd ever cared for any other people in her life.

Although it felt sappy and annoying to think, the brunette thought that Hirose was the type of girl she could stay friends with forever. She'd never had anyone like that before. Her father hadn't even noticed her injuries when he'd been home the previous night, even if he'd fallen asleep only a few minutes after coming home. She was unused to being cared for and she had to admit that it felt nice.

Perhaps a happier life truly was ahead of her.


	8. Golden Week

Momoko slowly found herself growing used to her duties as manager, one of which being going to a training camp with the rest of the team during Golden Week. Needless to say, she was terrified. She'd tried to come up with an excuse not to attend but for the life of her, couldn't think properly when confronted so suddenly. Therefore, before she'd had the chance to mutter out some stupid lie, her head had nodded in agreement and a form had been shoved into her hands.

She'd considered just not showing the form to her father and could hence use the excuse that he wasn't home to sign it but Hirose said that it was only a formality and she could attend nonetheless. Sometimes the brunette truly did believe that her entire existence was cursed.

Due to such circumstances, she found herself squished between Hirose and a bus window, angrily glaring outside at the fact that she had to be up so early. It didn't exactly help that the boy's were proving to be extremely loud and that it was freezing. Momoko drew her arms closely around her body to conserve heat and turned up the volume on her music in a desperate yet useless attempt to console herself.

She hadn't even realised that she'd drifted off to sleep until she'd felt a heavy weight on top of her head, suddenly awakening her. The brunette was tired and not bothered to open her eyes, besides it was suddenly a lot warmer and she found her muscles relaxing into what she had assumed was Hirose's slumbering presence.

To the girl's immense surprise and relief, she didn't experience a single nightmare for the first time in what must have been months. Her nightmares were never anything like she always saw on tv or in books, they were stupid, irrational and incredibly strange. Still didn't stop them from scaring the shit out of her though.

Momoko hadn't been bothered again until a bright camera flash broke through her eyelids, successfully both awakening and pissing her off. It was no longer dark outside, as it had been when they departed, and rays of sunlight weaved their way through a black curtain of her hair which hung over her face.

Morning was as assured as the tides, and just as unstoppable. She wished with all her heart that's she could have just a few more hours of darkness, to stay close to the warmth next to her and stay in her dreamless paradise.

The brunette first turned her attention outside the bus window, although it was bright, the sky held dazzling colours of a soothing lavender and brilliant amber. It had been ages since she'd last seen a dawn so beautiful. Normally, upon waking up, the sky was a dull grey and so was her spirit. That morning however, she felt bright and lively, weightless and worry-free.

They were still driving evident by the passing rice fields and occasional cottage. How far out was the training camp exactly? Were they being led to some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere so they could be murdered by the suddenly revealed murderer coach? That would be pretty cool.

She suddenly remembered why she'd woken up in the first place and slowly moved her head up only to find herself face to face with a phone.

"What the fuck do you want?" She growled out wearily, blinking the exhaustion from her eyes as she realised it was just Hirose behind the phone. What she'd actually done with the device, however, she was not sure nor did she care much in her current state of exhaustion.

A giddy grin spread across her friend's painted pink lips and she bit back a fit of giggles. "Nothing much, don't worry about it Momo-chan."

Wait a second. If Hirose was sat in front of her, then who had she been sleeping next to that whole time? She stiffly inched her head to her right only for her gaze to be met by the one person she'd sworn to avoid. Her heart stopped and her jaw dropped. Heat rushed to every part of her body as her hands began to tremble from some strange mixture of rage and embarrassment.

"Hey there sleeping beauty." He winked at her playfully, as he did with most of his fangirls and had the audacity to ruffle her hair.

In a sudden, anger overtook the sheepishness, she reeled herself away from him as though he was poison ivy before drawing back her arms and shoving him off the seat and into the bus aisle. She glared harshly at him, face still crimson with anger and mortification, and moved her bag from the floor and onto where he'd previously been sitting to send the message that he was not wanted there.

A chorus of laughter erupted from all those who'd witnessed the exchange as Oikawa pouted like a child and rubbed his head as though he'd hit it (which she was positive he hadn't and just wanted to make a scene like the dork he was).

Momoko turned her attention to Hirose who was still leaning over the back of the seat in front of her, with a dark expression.

"Sayori-chan!" She whisper-shouted. "Why would you let me fall asleep on him like that? It was so embarrassing!"

A picture was shoved under her nose and she felt herself grow pale. It showed her peacefully sleeping on Oikawa's shoulder as he flashed a peace sign and stuck out his tongue. She had never wanted to die more than she did in that moment. He must have thought she was such a weirdo for sleeping on him like that. She buried her face in her hands and released a strange half sigh-half groan from her mouth.

"I think he took some on his own phone too." Hirose leaned over to pat her friend on the back, comfortingly. "I'm sorry, but it was way too cute not to take a picture of."

"Cute?" Momoko whispered in disbelief. "I'm the furthest thing from 'cute', Sayori-chan. I look like a goddamn sawado doll!"

"Personally I think they're pretty adorable."

"No, they're weird and creepy, just like me." She balled up two fistfuls of hair before a small object hit the side of her head. It bounced onto her lap, silver wrapping sparking in the morning rays of light. Was that...chocolate?

The brunette carefully turned the confection over in her fingers before glancing around in search of the source. A childish grin was flashed her way and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Oikawa Tooru was a strange boy, childish and romantic yet also analytical and terrifying. He confused her to no extent but she supposed it was only one of the many reasons she loved him.

At least the chocolate was nice.   
~~

The training camp was located far out into the countryside, a large gym connected to the house where they were staying. They looked old, as though sets built for a horror movie, every nook and cranny filled with cobwebs and dust. Momoko loved it. Having always possessed a love for scary things she felt right at home. To her, fear meant excitement and excitement meant that she felt alive.

Whilst the boys shared rooms according to year, the pair of managers got a whole room to themselves which overlooked the dense forest outside. They stashed their secret food cleverly, some under a loose floorboard, some in their slippers and the rest was stuffed inside of their futons. Another one of their perks was getting to use the showers first and use up all the hot water just to piss everyone else off.

After unpacking, the whole team had gathered in the gym to start practicing. Some competition called 'Interhigh' was apparently coming up and it appeared as though it meant a great deal to the players. Momoko didn't have much knowledge when it came to volleyball, just the very basics, but she knew that Seijoh was considered a powerhouse school and it was made evident in the way they played.

She spent the remainder of the day as she would any normal practice, tossing balls, marking maximum block height, fetching water and actively avoiding Oikawa as smoothly as she could. Just typical manager duties. The first day had flown by and before she knew it, she was being shoved off early to make dinner for the team.

The brunette wasn't about to lie, she was a good cook, it was pretty much mandatory considering she'd basically been living on her own since she was a kid but that didn't stop her from whining about it. She didn't see why the boys couldn't make their own food. It was old-fashioned to just expect the females to do it.

Deep down she knew that it was really because they were busy training and she didn't do much besides refill the water bottles and make sarcastic comments at the side of the court but she was in no mood to be argued with even if her point was irrational.

She sloppily minced onions with a permanent pout gracing her lips. "Sayori-chan, why can't we just order a pizza?"

"I don't think anyone delivers out this far."

"That's stupid." She proceeded in making the curry silently until another thought struck her. "Why couldn't we just bring frozen food?"

"They're athletes, Momo-chan," Hirose laughed at her best friend, tugging on her cheek. "They can't just live off frozen pizza for a week."

"That's also stupid." She mentally patted her back for the amazing response before chuckling softly at her own sarcasm towards herself. Sometimes she wondered if she truly was slowly yet surely going mad.

The two girls continued with their task while conversing about a new boyband that had recently debuted. It felt nice to talk about things that teenage girls should talk about instead of spending all their time putting other girls down. It was like breathing clean air for the first time, cleansing her lungs.

They had finished cooking just as the boys strolled into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced. Momoko was pleasantly surprised at the outcome of the food, probably one of the best meals she'd ever made but then again Hirose most likely had something to do with that. While eating, she tried her best at a conversation with Kyotani who responded mostly in stiff nods, quiet grunts and poisonous glares. It was the first time she'd been more socially adept than someone and it felt pretty good although awkward considering it was still a painfully obvious one-sided conversation.

The brunette had also seemingly managed to succeed in having as little contact with Oikawa as she could possibly manage without appearing incredibly suspicious.

After eating, the girls had returned to their room and used the showers, screaming the lyrics to random old songs which were most likely not even close to being correct and definitely pissing off every other living being in the building.

The day then ended in the most satisfying way possible, with the two managers watching horror films, shoving fistfuls of sweets into their mouths and screaming in terror when Yahaba made the mistake of knocking over the potted plant outside.   
~

Nothing of much notoriety occurred for the remainder of the week, it was like any normal day at school but it was all volleyball practice instead of classes. However, on the last day of the training camp, Momoko found herself in heaps of trouble all thanks to a certain asshole with great hair.

Since it was the last day, the coach had finally given into her pleas of driving out to go get pizzas and she was left to finish cleaning up the storage cupboard. She'd been sure that everyone else had already left to quickly wash up but was proven wrong as a ball lightly came in contact with the back of her head.

She whipped around, clutching the volleyball net to her chest. Who else but the notorious Oikawa Tooru stood facing her with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"What the hell, dude?" She narrowed her dark eyes at him in a glare through her bangs. "Why'd you feel the need to try and crack open my skull? I'm not a piñata, you know?"

His grin suddenly dropped and she felt the air grow colder along with his gaze" All wonderful questions Momo-chan but the real one relates as to why you've been avoiding me?"

Fuck. Her stomach dropped and her face paled. Perhaps she didn't always give him enough credit for how observant he could be when he wanted to. Sometimes his act was so convincing she forgot his true analytical nature. Had she been _that_ easy to read? To see through? Regardless of how obvious she was about it, she was so dead.

"And why on earth would you think that?" She tried to defend herself but a simple brow raise made her realise that there was no salvation. She truly had been found out so easily. She couldn't exactly avoid the answer at that point either. Might as well give up since she truly had no chance in convincing him she was not putting her all into avoiding him.

"Fine...it's because you make me nervous." Her voice was small and meek and her shoulders sagged as she spoke. No point in keeping up the confidence. "Idiot."

She tried to distract herself from the embarrassment of it all by continuing to cleanup. Her efforts proved futile once again and she could only feel something sinking in the pit of her stomach, weighing her down.

"I act all tough and stuff but at the end of the day, you're the most popular guy in school who has everyone falling all over in admiration for everything you do and then there's me at the bottom of the food chain. However cliche it is, guys like you aren't typically best buddies with girls like me."

"That's stupid."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You're stupid."

"No, you are!"

"Piss off, you're the stupid one!"

He reached into the volleyball basket next to him and threw one at her. Just when she thought he was being serious for once, back was the childish persona he donned like a crown and cape. Momoko threw one back, successfully hitting him square in the face. The look he cast her way after that was a clear message to run.

She sprinted out of the storage cupboard, taking as many balls as she could fit in her arms and made her way to the farthest corner of the gym. If he wanted to play dodgeball, they could play dodgeball. She didn't want to toot her own horn but one of the few talents she possessed was her natural proficiency for hitting things with balls. Had she not been so lazy she probably would have joined the baseball team and had quite a bit of success.

"Die!" She struck him hard in the stomach that time, skilfully evading his attack.

The brunette was shocked to find herself having immense fun. Throwing objects at people proved to be a phenomenal stress reliever. Could they make this a regular thing? Their laughs echoed through the large gymnasium, filling the air with their pure and unfiltered joy.

Eventually, Oikawa grew tired of being beaten by her so he suddenly ran forwards, grasping her round her torso from behind and easily picking her up. A strange hybrid of a scream and a laugh exploded from the girl as she was spun around. In that split second she had no fears, no doubts, she felt weightless, as though she could fly. It was times like those in which she wished she could press pause and live in that sliver of time forever.

"What are you two doing?" The moment shattered once they were caught by Coach Irihata like a stone through thin glass.

Momoko was gently placed back on her own two feet, still dizzy. As the pair were screamed at for making a bigger mess than there was in the beginning, they kept their gaze fixed on the ground, not because they felt guilty but because they were hiding smiles.

The lecture lasted a whopping twenty minutes before they were sent off to clear the damage they'd caused and could only eat once everything was clean. The ultimate punishment. Still, the brunette found it hard to complain as there was still that light airy feeling in her chest.

Oikawa confused her to no end. She liked to tell herself that she knew him better than his fangirls which was probably true but she had still barely scratched the surface. He was a myriad of personalities, switching between different ones swiftly and fluently. One minute he'd be flirting playfully with anyone who bother to glance at him and the next he'd be found crushing the hopes and dreams of fellow volleyball players.

Their eyes met from across the gym.

Shit. Did he catch her staring at him like some creepy stalker?

Oikawa didn't know what to think about Imada Momoko. She was strange in the way that she couldn't seem to decide whether she hated him or wanted to be his best friend. She was fascinating in the way that she seemed to live off of instant ramen and refused to accept money from others. She was funny in the way she responded to his attempts at flirting.

"Hurry up, Dickhead!" She yelled at him from the other side of the gymnasium. "Do you want us to get dinner or not?"

Regardless of all that though, she intrigued him.


	9. Worthless

Momoko was surprised to find herself sad when they were set to return to Miyagi and and the dull routine of everyday life. Although she'd missed the availability of convenience stores and her own bed, the brunette couldn't help but wish to rewind back to the training camp.

Looking back, she couldn't think of a single time she'd been happier in her life. Did that sound sad? Pitiful? No matter, it was the truth, however painful and embarrassing to admit.

Thankfully, Inoue and Amano had appeared to have completely forgotten about her existence entirely as they hadn't even glanced in her direction once since they'd beaten her up. They'd also seemed to lose their interest in Hirose too, much to her relief. She wasn't sure whether it was because Kyotani had spooked them so much or they'd just found a more appealing target for their gossip and torment.

Life was peaceful, her main concern was the fact that despite her protests, everyone on the volleyball team had dubbed her 'Momo-chan'. It was nice when Hirose called her cute nicknames but the boys had yet to reach friendship level five which meant they hadn't unlocked nickname privileges.

Her week only grew better when her father had come home announcing that he had a full three days off work as the office was closed thanks to an infestation of rats. She truly didn't believe that life could be any more amazing when she was proven wrong once again.

Mornings had never bothered her much. Yes, the sun was too bright and the birds were too loud but she enjoyed the way the sun rose, like a flower opening, gifting its petals unto the world. Her favourite thing about the morning however, was when she was lucky enough to just sit and watch the mellow blues and pinks blurred together in a silver mist, light glistening off dewdrops. Even when the world could be drowning in grief and sorrow, the sky would always be beautiful.

That particular morning, she had already left her house in her manager tracksuit which kept out the early chill, walking slowly with her head tilted back so the sky took up her whole vision. It was like stepping out of her physical body and floating up with the clouds, leaving her dull and boring life for one of happiness and adventure.

A sudden poke on her ribs jolted her out of her fantasy, eyes wide with shock and surprise. She clutched at her pounding heart as her stare narrowed into a harsh glare. If looks could kill, Oikawa Tooru would have been long gone.

"What the hell, dude?" She lightly smacked him upside the head, small pout gracing her lips. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack or just being a general asshole?"

"Sorry Momo-chan." He didn't sound very apologetic.

She loved him with all her heart, to the point where it was painful to even look at him but he sure could be annoying sometimes. She'd given up on insisting not being given a stupid nickname as he was adamant in stealing the pet name from Hirose.

"It's okay." She subtly tried to speed up her pace, her chest as beginning to feel tight again which was a clear sign that she was getting flustered. He easily kept up, much to her disappointment, rambling on about something funny Iwaizumi had said to him the previous night. He was trying to kill her, wasn't he?

The pair continued on their journey, Oikawa doing the majority of the talking while the female remained silent and pensive. It was like every time she was around him her mind grew foggy and it was hard to think clearly.

While stuck in her own mind, it didn't take long for the dark thoughts to start eating away at her, bit by bit. Who had she been kidding? The volleyball team weren't her friends. They were acquaintances at most. They didn't know her, they didn't care about her. Hell, she could probably drop off the face of the earth and nobody would give a rat's ass. She meant nothing, she held no significance, no purpose. She was Nobody. Nobody was her. To think she'd even tried to convince herself otherwise.

"Why are you doing this?" She interrupted his spiel, eyes boring into his very soul in a desperate search for an answer.

"Doing what?" He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"Why are you being nice to me?" It was a genuine question she had which had been tearing at her mind for ages. Momoko was unable to find a single reason as to why he wanted to spend time with her.

He looked at her with a strange emotion in his eyes which she did not understand as his voice suddenly took on a far more serious tone. "I thought that answer was obvious."

"Evidently not." She began to toy with a dark strand of hair to try and distract herself from the overwhelming desire to burst into tears. "I'm just a worthless nobody, you shouldn't be wasting your precious time on me."

The suspicions he'd been speculating sent off red alarms in his head. Her wording sounded incredibly familiar. Could she really be the person he was looking for?

"Are you joking?"

She glared up at him sternly. "Of course not, you idiot! Can't you take anything seriously besides volleyball?"

A childish grin spread its way across his lips. "Nope."

The second year rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Don't say that about yourself though." He'd stopped in his tracks and grabbed at her wrist, catching her off guard and snatching away her breath. "You're not worthless, Imada Momoko."

"Oh yeah? Prove it then." Her voice trembled and in that moment he could view her only as a small little girl, scared and lost and alone. "You can't, can you?"

"You must be be blind or something." He shook his head at her, refusing to release his grip on her. "You can't even see all of us who truly care for you. I was sure that after the training camp you'd realise it."

Her eyes shot down to the ground. "They don't really. I like to tell myself that they do sometimes, to soothe my aching spirit but at the end of the day, they don't know me therefore they cannot love me."

"I care for you." A shot of pain pierced her heart and tears pricked her eyes. Oh how she wished that were true. How she wished she could hear him say it again and again.

"No you don't."

"Here's the thing, you can't tell me what I feel, Momo-chan." She was taken aback by the sudden appearance of raw emotion on his face. "I believe that meeting you has truly made my life better and your absence would destroy me. So don't you even dare try and say that I don't. Don't even think for a second that you are worthless to me. You're right, I don't know you that well, but I want to. I want to understand you, the way you think, to be your friend."

That was it. She could feel her glass heart shattering into a million pieces, piercing her lungs and making it hard to breathe. Her knees grew weak and she felt herself collapsing onto the pavement in a storm of swirling emotions. Momoko was unsure whether she was happy or heartbroken. Could she be both?

A pair of arms slowly wrapped themselves around her figure as a hand gently stroked her hair. Her cries only grew louder as she was reminded of her mother, of her silent comfort and the sudden absence of it. She'd been left for a better option. Her mother had left them because she was sick of her worthless daughter, the crybaby, the loner, the pest, the nobody.

Oikawa's existence had given her a reason. A reason to keep going. He was her purpose.

They stayed there for what must have been several hours. Neither particularly cared. They were lost to the world of stress and anxiety, choosing to stay in their embrace on the cold concrete path. There was nothing in the universe which could destroy that moment and the connection between the two hurting teens.

~~


	10. Disastrous

Momoko carefully turned the DVD cover over in her hands, thoroughly examining it. For a girl claiming to be in love with him, it was pretty sad that she'd had no knowledge of his passion for the extraterrestrial. The amount of alien based movies on the shelves was astounding.

"You sure you want to watch that?" He grinned at her from one of the beanbags he'd hauled from downstairs, wet hair dripping water onto the back of his shirt.

The pair had finally moved from their position on the pavement when it had begun to drizzle down on them. Thankfully they weren't too far from their neighbourhood and had quickly darted back into Oikawa's house. The female had tried to protest but it appeared as though he was having none of it, gifting her with a mug of tea, a change of clothes and insisted that they watched a movie together.

"Duh, alien movies are only the best movies." Her mood felt lightened at the prospect of watching a low-budget, 2001 alien movie with bad acting and overly dramatic sound effects. If she couldn't laugh at it, it wasn't worth her time.

Momoko lightly pressed the sleeve of the jumper she'd borrowed from him up to her face and tried to discreetly sniff it. It smelled exactly like he did, the school volleyball gym and the women's cinnamon shampoo he'd often bragged about using. She really did sound like a creepy stalker sometimes.

"I'm glad someone finally agrees with me then." He stood up and took the DVD from her grasp and proceeded to pop it in the television as the female settled herself on a beanbag, drawing her knees up to her chest and blowing into her palms in an attempt to warm them up.

It felt so surreal to be in his house, wearing his clothes, watching a movie, almost like it was a dream. Even it being a dream seemed rather farfetched to her. The damp hair clinging to her neck and the biting numbness in her toes proved that it was indeed very real, however.

After her school uniform and manager's tracksuit were soaked by the rain, she'd practically been forced back to Oikawa's house where he'd given her a change of clothes dug out of his closet while shoving her wet ones in the dryer. She glanced over at her shoes which had been left on the radiator to dry. It was strange seeing the inside of the house, the brunette was so used to only seeing the outside when she dropped off her letters. The room layout wasn't very different from her own house's but the decor was far more plentiful, just what she'd expected from such a drama-queen.

A sudden pain pricked her left cheek.

"Hey. What was that for?" Momoko pouted slightly, gently pressing the area where he'd pinched her. "What did my cheeks ever do to you to warrant such violent behaviour?"

"You were spacing out again." He was right, she hadn't even noticed that he'd drawn the curtains and flicked off the lights, or the fact that the movie had already started. "You do that a lot, you know?"

"Sorry." She rested her chin on her knees, avoiding his gaze.

"Stop!" He'd lightly shoved her shoulder so that she'd almost toppled off the beanbag. "Don't apologise, I never said it was a bad thing."

"Sorry." She'd repeated more meekly, reassuming her original position.

That time the push was slightly more forceful. "There you go again! I just said that there was no need to apologise. Don't just always assume you're the one in the wrong."

She'd opened her mouth to say sorry before realising that he'd just get more frustrated. "Okay."

"Better."

The pair fell into silence for the rest of the movie, neither fazed by the jump scares or cheap gore and effects. However, each was surprised that the other shared such an interest for the extraterrestrial. Generally when revealing that fact about themselves, they were met with ridicule and mockery, even if the move had playful and harmless intentions. It was nice to have the ability to share their passion with someone.

It felt as though time had stopped all around them and that nothing existed outside of that room. It was just the two teens and a crappy alien movie as time began to dissolve in on itself, as shapeless as the rain. When Momoko was with him in moments like that, she felt that there was only right in the world. When she looked at him, she could forget about all the pain, suffering and unfairness in the world.

Oikawa turned his attention to her as the credits rolled onscreen. "Wanna watch another?"

"Do I even need to answer that question?"   
~~

The second year had not returned home until they had finished another three movies and were set loose on the snack cupboard. She felt fat and happy, aka the best two feelings one could experience at the same time. Momoko remained giddy after the event for the rest of the week, unable to come down from her high until she received what must have been the most terrifying phone call of her life.

She'd just gotten the chance to settle herself on the living room couch with that night's homework, eyes strained due to the dim light coming from a single flickering bulb. Her father had been sent back to work sooner than she'd expected, she hadn't realised that it was so easy to get rid of a rat infestation. Still, it was nice that she got two free days with him even if they did nothing else but pay a visit to the cinema.

The brunette softly hummed a song she had heard on the radio to herself as she filled in the maths answers from the back of the book because she was far too lazy to work out the problems herself.

The sudden buzzing of her phone interrupted the brunette's quiet tune. She heaved her books off her lap with a sigh and reached forwards to snatch her phone off the crowded coffee table. Checking the Caller ID, she noticed that it was her father who was calling her. Hopefully his message wouldn't be that he'd have to stay at work overnight again and could instead go home early.

If only he had stay at work overnight, that was infinitely better than what she was about to hear.

"Roadkill cafe: you kill 'em, we grill 'em."

"Hello?" She did not recognise the terrified voice that drifted out of the speaker. A pit of anxiety settled in her stomach, weighing her down and immediately crushing her good mood. "This number was listed under Imada-kun's emergency contacts-"

Momoko's heart dropped and she suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. "What happened? Is he okay? Can he talk on the phone?"

"I'm very sorry but Imada-kun has suddenly collapsed and-"

"Then what the hell are you doing talking to me?" Desperation saturated her voice. "Call an ambulance!"

"W-we have but we felt it best to contact a relative or a friend."

The grief surged through her body with every breath, consuming her, devouring her, always reaching higher peaks. Tears began to spill from her helpless eyes, slipping down her cheeks and staining them. Her knees were weak, she couldn't stand up, she was completely and utterly useless. She could think nothing but the worst. He couldn't die on her, she wouldn't be able to survive on her own, with a hole in her heart. Every breath, every blink, every thought hurt. She couldn't handle losing him too.

"Where is he?"

"Still at work, he was just at his desk when he suddenly-"

The brunette hung up. The grief was very quickly overtaken by determination. Although it felt like her mind was detached from the rest of her body, she forced herself onto shaky legs and stumbled towards the door. She didn't care that she was in her pyjamas, that she was wearing her glasses or the fact that she'd abandoned her homework. All that mattered was getting to him.

She slipped on a random pair of shoes, not bothering with a coat and sprinted out the door.

Everything was a blur, all she could focus on was getting to her father, she barely even recalled jumping on the bus which she'd somehow managed to pay for with change in her pocket or sprinting past the security guards outside of her father's office.

When she laid eyes upon the limp figure of her only family, the sadness hit her hard in the chest and the grief filled her soul like a balloon.

"Otosan." Her voice sounded alien, unfamiliar. She pushed her way through the small crowd and fell to her knees. He looked like he was dead, sickly pale skin, a clammy sweat had broken out on his forehead and his was eerily still.

Even when the ambulance arrived and she'd been moved inside the vehicle with her father, she refused to speak a word, to look at anyone else but her father's body.

Her whole world came crashing down.   
~~

_Dear Asshole,_   
_It's been a while since my last letter, almost two weeks. Anyways, the universe seems to have decided that it hates me and has fucked over my life again. Unless you are a complete idiot you'll probably figure out who I am after this letter. If I had a choice I would keep this a secret but if I don't spill this to someone now I'm worried any shred of sanity I ever possessed will leave me._

_My father had a heart attack today at work, the doctors say it's because he overworked himself. I got the call in the middle of doing my homework. It was probably the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. I actually thought he was dead for a minute and the worst part was thinking that even after he'd left the world, life would go on as usual. I'd be the only one suffering._

_He's stable now, still conked out though. I'm writing this from the hospital, seated in the most uncomfortable chair ever beside his bed. A few nurses have tried to convince me to go home but I want to be there as soon as he wakes up, so he doesn't feel scared. I'm the only one he has left and vice versa._

_It's strange though, how your life can suddenly flip on its head and fuck you over. Things have actually been going relatively okay the past week and now everything has just gone to shit. People always say "It gets better" which really annoys me since right now, in this moment, it hurts and that is all that matters. The prospect of things getting better doesn't help when you feel like a glass ornament about to smash into a million pieces on the floor._

_To you, my life must sound awfully depressing but it's not as bad as I often make it out to be. In these letters I tend to only write about all my problems and worries but good stuff happens too. For a start, I get to see your face almost every day and I've recently learned a trick to get two things from vending machines after only one purchase._

Momoko stopped scribbling with her pen and stared at the paper beneath her. She couldn't send something like that to him. She made it sound as though she was fishing for pity. It was mortifying.

The brunette took the unfinished letter into her hands and savagely tore it up until it looked like cheap confetti for a child's birthday party. She spared a glance at the beeping heart monitor, shoulders relaxing slightly as she saw everything looked to be normal.

She was no doctor but had watched her fair share of medical dramas and it looked as though her father would be okay. Their wallets maybe not so much. They didn't have insurance, didn't have enough monthly income to pay the premium.

Oh well, that could be a worry for another day. Presently, Momoko was tired, unbelievably so and she wanted nothing else but to sleep, even if it was in the most uncomfortable chair in the world. Her eyelids felt heavy and she suppressed a yawn. 

"Sweet dreams, Otosan." She whispered, resting her head in her palms. "Please don't worry me like that ever again, my heart can't take it."


	11. Not Nobody

Having fallen asleep in the kitchen, Momoko awoke to the glaring light from the sun filtering through the open blinds she'd forgotten to close the previous night. She rooted through piles of papers and envelopes in search of her phone to check the time, almost knocking her calculator onto the ground in the process.

Six-thirty. She buried her face in her palms and groaned loudly, voice filling the otherwise empty house. The brunette felt horrible, her head hurt and her chest ached.

Upon remembering what she had spent the whole night doing she felt as though she was about to be sick. It turned out that there was more than she'd expected wrong with her father's health and she had full knowledge that there was no way in hell they could pay the medical bill. Getting a loan was always a possibility but it would take them decades just to pay off the accumulated interest. Japanese citizens were required to have healthcare insurance by law but she doubted it would even scrape the amount of money.

Momoko wanted to scream, to cry, to just stop existing altogether. Of course the universe just couldn't let her have a happy moment before topping it with a disaster. Rage consuming all her thoughts she angrily swept all of her workings from the night before off the table and onto the ground where she glared harshly at them.

She was no particularly in the mood to go to school or volleyball practice but she knew that she desperately needed something, anything to get her mind off her problems even if it was just for a few sweet hours.   
~~

"You okay there, Momo-chan?" She barely glanced at the owner of the hand which had been hesitantly placed on her shoulder but immediately knew it was Oikawa.

The brunette wasn't exactly trying her hardest to hide her rotten mood but she had expected a bit of time to pass before she was confronted about it. Evidently, she had been horribly incorrect.

"Yeah." Her voice came out strained and forced. Despite the fake smile plastered on her lips, her eyes were screaming and pleading for help and it was painfully obvious that she was not indeed okay.

He looked at her doubtfully, not buying her shtick for a second. She tried to break away from his grasp but found herself trapped and defenceless. Had she not possessed such an enormous pride she would have collapsed into a heap of tears right then and there. It wasn't as though he'd never seen her cry before, in fact he'd witnessed her lowest point just two weeks previously. Still, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed and pathetic, letting her emotions get the best of her in such a way.

"Come on."

He didn't even give her a chance to argue, taking a tight hold on her wrist and dragging her outside the gym before anyone could catch them in the act. There was no possible way she could imagine this situation ending not disastrously.

"Spill."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She lied through her teeth, trying her hardest not to start sobbing right then and there. She didn't want to make him think that she was just using him as her therapist or anything. "Let go of my wrist, I need to go refill the water bottles."

"No!" His grip moved from her wrist to her upper arms, preventing her from moving away. "There's clearly something wrong and I want to help!"

"You can't help!" She'd never yelled at him like that and immediately regretted her sudden action. "You can't help me. This is my problem which I need to deal with alone. I'm doing this in your interest, I don't want you wasting you time on me and my stupid life."

She saw nothing but red hot anger in his eyes and shrank back a bit. She'd never seen him like that. Had her life been a romance novel she would have noticed how attractive he looked when angry but that was not the case and all she felt was fear.

"Shut up." His voice was dangerously low and she felt as though she'd lost the ability to breathe. "Tell me what's wrong, now."

She barely managed to choke out two syllables from her dry throat. "Okay."

So she did it. She told him everything. The whole situation, not missing a single detail. Once she'd started, everything just seemed to roll off her tongue effortlessly. With every word out of her lips, his face softened and his grip loosened. She was unable to pinpoint the emotion held in his eyes, all she knew was that it was not the pity she had expected.

"Go home."

"What?" Momoko was beyond confused. And guys said girls were the ones who were complex and confusing. "What do you mean?"

"You look exhausted, go home and take a nap." She still was unable to decipher whatever he felt. God, why couldn't he just tell her flat out his emotions.

"Is that just another way of telling me I look like death or...?" She tried to make a joke as though it would magic away the tear tracks on her cheeks and make her look a little less pathetic.

He didn't respond for a few seconds and just stared at her with his big brown eyes. Like a puppy but huge and with great hair. Then he just walked off. Without any other words to her, he re-entered the gym. Had she done something to annoy him? Oh god, she hoped not. Maybe it was best to keep her distance from him for a while.   
~~

Momoko's head felt clouded and foggy and was unable to concentrate on a single word out of her teachers' mouths. She supposed Hirose must have noticed that something was up since she offered that they could skip volleyball practice that evening and instead go out for food. Despite the brunette's protests, she was dragged off where her best friend treated her to dinner at a shabu shabu restaurant.

Unwilling to admit that it had been her first proper meal since her father's accident, she tried not to wolf down all the food. She already felt guilty enough that Hirose was paying for her and refused to end up eating most of the shared hot pot.

The pair didn't talk much, far more interested in the food rather than a conversation yet there was a small bud of suspicion in the back of Momoko's head. Normally there wouldn't have been a chance that her red headed friend would suggest skipping practice even if their role as managers wasn't all that significant. She'd come to the decision without any hesitation and didn't seem to feel any remorse either. It was awfully unlike her. The second year couldn't help but wonder if Hirose had been replaced by a clone and took her out for food so she could murder her after she'd eaten so much she could barely walk.

"Why are you glaring at me like that, Momo-chan?"

"Oh...sorry. I was just thinking." She paused before whispering under her breath with a vindictive glare. "Begone _clone._ "

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Her answer was rushed and panicked and she desperately hoped that the clone had not picked up on her realisation of the situation.

She suddenly felt like an idiot. How stupid and sleep-deprived did she have to be to start thinking that her best friend was a clone? She must have been going mental for real that time. Perhaps it would be better to focus on her food instead of letting her stupid delusions get the best of her.

After the pair had finished eating, Hirose insisted on walking Momoko back to her house where she'd rambled on about how annoying her younger brother was and the brunette had listened and nodded when appropriate. She supposed she felt guilty for her lack of communication too. Still, she had to focus on any possible way to try and build up some money. Anything that could help.

She bid farewell to her friend and collapsed on the living room couch with a groan.

_Dear Asshole,_   
_I know that it has literally been weeks since I last wrote but the universe decided to kick me in the ass again and I'm not dealing with it too well. I probably did something really fucked up in a past life to warrant all of this bullshit. I would explain my situation but then I'm pretty sure you'd figure out my identity pretty easily so I'm gonna make a long story short and just say what I've learned from this experience. The main moral of my story is that life sucks majorly and that food can only soothe festering wounds for so long._

_I suppose the only real reason that I'm writing to you right now is because it makes me feel a bit closer to you in a strange way. I understand how selfish and creepy that sounds but it's the truth. I'm a coward who's too scared to confess her feelings in person and you have every right to throw away these letters and despise me but it doesn't look like you do and I couldn't be more thankful for that._

_Where was I going with this again? I honestly can't even remember so this letter is rather pointless. It's short too so can it even really be called a letter? I feel like almost every time I write to you it's overly depressing and I promise that it's not my intention. I should probably stop writing these altogether since they don't really benefit either of us._   
_Yours sincerely,_   
_Nobody._

~~

The following day, she had just been walking up to the gym doors when she was almost tackled to the ground by the furious looking Kyotani who blocked the entrance.

"Um...good morning?" She peered up at him hesitantly. "Can you please let me through?"

"No."

"Excuse me?" She was beyond confused and wouldn't be surprised if it was revealed that she was dreaming. She didn't often speak to Kyotani but in all fairness he seemed to put up with her more than most others. Still, as to why he was preventing her from going into the gym, she was unsure. It was cold outside and she really wanted to get in before her fingers went numb.

"I need your...help."

It was blatantly obvious that he was making up lies on the spot. She knew him and she also knew that he would rather die than ask for help from someone. Had her clone theory actually been correct? No way, he was probably just joking with her in his own strange little way.

"Very funny but let me through now, I have to make up for skipping practice yesterday." Momoko tried to duck under his outspread arms but he'd instead easily hoisted her over his shoulder and stalked off. She'd obviously resisted, screeching and pounding on his back but her efforts proved fruitless.

He'd eventually dumped her on the hard ground right outside the school doors and glared down at her in his usual default expression.

"Go to class."

"What the fuck was all that about?" She rose to her feet and brushed the dirt off her clothes. She didn't exactly want to be brutally murdered before lunch so she guessed her best bet was to do as he said and change into her school uniform and go to class.

It was weird, bizarre, as though the world had suddenly turned on its head. She couldn't help but wish the events of the past few weeks was nothing but a dream, or rather a nightmare, more vicious than most, more lucid. She wanted nothing more than to wake up in her bed and to find her father chugging a mug of coffee in the kitchen before going off to work normal hours in an office building which did not have a rat infestation.

Sitting in her classroom alone so early in the morning also felt reality breaking. Time seemed to tick by slower, birds flew at a snails pace and the trees outside seemed to leer at her mockingly. It was silent, eerily so. The whole world could have stopped and she was alone in the most boring place she knew. Great. Her loud sigh filled the empty space and made her feel slightly less lonely for about a millisecond. Wow, even her own thoughts made her sound creepier.

Finally, her classmates began to filter in, paying her little to no mind and the day went on as usual. She supposed it was best to write off the events of that morning just as Kyotani being weirder than normal and went about her studies or rather lack of.

After classes she was half expecting to be stopped outside the gym again but was not tackled nor yelled at so she assumed it was safe to enter. Instead she was attacked once inside the building.

"Momo-chan!" She found herself staring at the ceiling, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around her neck. "I love you but you can be so frustrating sometimes!"

"Sayori-chan?" She moved the flaming red hair out of her mouth.

"Yes?"

"Can you get off me? I can't breathe." The weight that had been crushing her airways was lifted and she was helped back onto her feet.

Her dark eyes scanned the gym and saw that all eyes were in her figure. Was there something on her face? She took a step back, insecurity washing over her.

"You know, I'm a bit disappointed that you won't tell me what's wrong." Hirose took her by the hands and dragged her forwards. "And yet you told that dork everything."

A very thick envelope was thrust under Momoko's nose and she found herself at a loss of words. What was going on? She didn't have a clue what her friend was talking about.

"I hope this is enough." Oikawa waved the envelope in front of her face, eyes seemingly staring straight through her as though she was transparent, made of glass.

"What is it?" She took the item from his hands as the waving was beginning to get on her nerves.

"Money."

Her heart dropped at Iwaizumi's bluntness.

"What?"

Her gaze flitted frantically to each member of the club, waiting for somebody to pop out and scream that she'd been pranked but it never happened. She felt as though she was about to cry and be sick at the same time.

"Don't worry." Her tearful attention was turned to Oikawa. "I didn't spill all the details, just that you really needed help and everyone was happy to collect it."

The envelope of money fell from her grip and lay on the floor. She couldn't accept it, the fact that they'd gone out of their way to complete such an action for her. She wordlessly shook her head and felt her knees grow weak. It didn't make any sense to her as to _why_ they would do it. This was more confusing than Fermat's Last Theorem.

"Oi!" Kyotani barked at her. "Aren't you going to say thank you?"

She bent down and picked the envelope off the ground, holding it close to her chest that time. She was torn between graciously taking the gift and refusing their pity.

"But why?" Her voice was small but all heard it. "Why go to so much trouble for a nobody like me? What do you all get out of this?"

"Shut up!" The third year captain pinched her cheek. "We don't _want_ anything other than to help you. And don't you dare retaliate by saying you're worthless and all that bullshit! Believe it or not we all care for you and want to help when you're in a rough spot."

It took a minute or two for his words to really sink in. Did he really mean that? The warmth that seemed to have been absent from her suddenly returned, flooding her mind. She felt hot but she looked ashen, lips almost blue. She was sure that she looked a mess, ponytail ragged, loose hairs falling over her face which was contorted with disbelief and shock.

"Really?"

"Of course."

And then the tears came, all at once like floodgates opening out onto a spacious plain. Every time Oikawa's nephew cried it was loud and painful however Momoko's sobs were almost silent but twice as heartbreaking, like an old soldier beaten down with sorrow. He could do nothing but stare at her with an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes.

"Thank you." A sudden smile broke through the tears and the pain and the suffering like when the sun came out from behind rain clouds. "For everything."


	12. Interhigh

Momoko would have described the bus ride as hot and uncomfortable had she not been seated next to Hirose. The pair of females shared earphones and watched the latest episode of a new drama series they'd started while Iwaizumi secretly watched over their shoulders, brow furrowed in concentration.

The brunette didn't possess much knowledge about volleyball or competitions involving the sport so her idea of what the Interhigh Preliminaries would entail was rather blurry. She supposed that she was excited seeing as she'd never seen Seijoh properly play before. Her expectations were high, she'd heard from many fangirls that their school's team was one of the top four in the prefecture. 

The Sendai City Gymnasium was a large building which stood tall and proud against the azure sky, people milling around, most of them dressed appropriately in sports attire. Momoko admittedly felt out of place among all of the volleyball fanatics swarming the area and fell to the back of the group that the team had been traveling as. It felt like her first day of elementary school all over again although it was a strange comparison. The strong smell of Air Salonpas seemed to overtake all other senses in the same way Junior High stunk of cheap cologne.

Up ahead the two coaches appeared to be discussing another team they'd played against before she'd joined who apparently had some kind of invincible duo. All the athletic talk was beginning to fry her brain so she tried to focus on her surroundings but caught up only on gossip about Seijoh's members. 

"Speaking of, where's their setter?" She furrowed her brows at the stranger's remark and looked around. They were right, Oikawa Tooru was nowhere to be seen. She'd been so focused on feeling awkward that she hadn't even noticed him slip away. 

"Where's Oikawa?" Coach Irihata seemed to have also overheard and turned around. 

"Oh...um." Yahaba sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact.

"What is it? Fess up." 

"Girls from other schools have him in their clutches." She should've guessed, the older boy was well known not just for his talent but for his beauty. 

"Iwaizumi, Imada." 

"Yes." They answered in unison, the male looking as though he was about to murder someone and the female as though she was about to witness said murder. 

The pure hostility on his face made Momoko fear for the setter's wellbeing and safety. She supposed she was being taken along in case the third year knew he'd go overboard and needed someone to hold him back. 

The pair quickly located Oikawa right outside the door where he was surrounded by a small cluster of teenage girls, many of which were clutching presents to their chests and looking up at him in awe. He stood a good two heads above all of them and the brunette suddenly felt self-conscious about her lanky frame. 

The volleyball that had been tucked safely under Iwaizumi's arm was viciously hurled into the back of Oikawa's head, impact making a very satisfying smack against his skull. The crowd of girls looked on with horror, looking as though they were about to faint while Momoko had to hold back her giggles. 

"Ouch!" He clutched the back of his head in pain. "Not even the coach hits me..." 

He stopped mid-sentence upon realising who exactly had attacked him. One poisonous glare easily got the message across. 

"Sorry, I'll take pictures next time." 

The girls all whined in disappointment as the third year waved goodbye. 

"Can I hit him too, Iwaizumi-senpai?" She picked the ball off the ground and tossed it up in her hands before catching it with ease. 

"Knock yourself out." 

She'd aimed the ball straight at his face, delighted with herself when it hit the desired target. Hitting Oikawa made for great therapy. 

"Not you too, Momo-chan." 

"It's your own fault for getting distracted." She chided him as a mother would a disobedient child. "You need to focus if you wanna get through these Preliminaries, you know?" 

Both her and Iwaizumi grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him back inside. It didn't take too long to catch up to the rest of the team who were heading up the stairs and entering the viewing stands. They didn't seem very surprised that Oikawa had been kidnapped so she was led to assume that it was a regular occurrence. 

"Turnip Head!" 

Momoko jumped at the strange exclamation which seemed to have come from a small ginger boy on the court who was pointing accusatorially at Kindaichi. At first she was confused by the name but the longer she stared at his hair, the more sense it made. She supposed his head did look like a turnip when he styled it like that. 

"'Turning-head'? What's that?" Said boy looked taken aback. 

"It's you, who else?" Kunimi snickered.

"And he called you 'Turnip Head' not turning." Hirose smiled under the false pretence of being helpful.

The gymnasium looked much bigger inside than it did from the outside although it didn't seem as though there was much of a crowd to watch the matches and due to the buildings size it felt more empty than the rather narrow corridors which felt more full. She'd been expecting a larger turnout of spectators but most seemed to be the families and friends of those playing. 

"Yoo-hoo!" Her attention was suddenly drawn to the troublesome Oikawa who was leaning over the railing and flashing a mocking peace sign at the ginger from before and a taller, dark-haired boy. "Tobio-chan, shrimp-chan. How's the freak duo doing?" 

Both Momoko and Iwaizumi smacked him in unison and as he cried out in pain the female took his spot, apologising furiously for her rude senior. She had guessed that they must have had a history together as they stared at Oikawa with a strange mixture of fear, respect and distaste. Three emotions which should never have been grouped together but then again the setter had proved himself to be deserving of them all. 

She eventually took a seat next to Hirose and tried her best to tune out all the volleyball talk going in around her. It really was starting to drive her mad. However, the whole team seemed to be focused only on the players who donned black and orange uniforms with the name 'Karasuno' emblazoned on the back. If anything they seemed to be the cheesy sports manga rivals of Seijoh, or at least that was how they were selling it. Her red haired best friend however was staring at their manager with a giant smile on her face. 

"Shimizu-chan!" She waved frantically down towards the incredibly beautiful girl. "Hey hey!" 

The girl stopped her task of sorting out the water bottles and smiled up at Hirose with a tiny wave. Seeing both the model-like girls interact made Momoko feel self-conscious and she wanted nothing more than to sink into her seat to never be seen again. It really was a pain to be surrounded by beautiful people all the time.

Taking in her surroundings once more as though whistle signalling the start of the match blew she realised that her angry classmate was nowhere to be seen. Had Kyotani Kentaro dropped off the face of the earth? Or perhaps kidnapped by an evil wizard? Murdered brutally in an alleyway only to have his body found months later stuffed up some poor old lady's chimney? 

"Hey, Sayori-chan," she poked the girl in question. "Where's Kyotani-kun?" 

"Didn't you read the group chat?" She shook her head. "He got in another fight yesterday afternoon and has been suspended from all club activities. Either way he wouldn't be playing today since it's way too risky, you've seen how uncooperative he can be." 

Momoko frowned, she had neglected the team group chat in favour of visiting her father before he was released and had therefore not heard the news. She liked the boy despite his brash and confrontational personality, he had helped her with Inoue and Amano after all. But she had to admit that Hirose was right, his playing style was quite obviously dangerous, even a noob like her could see it clear as day and it was probably best that he did not play in matches. He refused to listen to anyone except Iwaizumi and oftentimes didn't even show up to practice. He seemed to tolerate her though, more so than others, and she appreciated that even if she didn't know why. 

She knew that it was out of place and that he would murder her if she ever said it aloud, but she pitied him. In a strange way, she was able to emphasise with his situation. She understood better than anyone what it felt like to not belong. The brunette supposed it wouldn't hurt to send him a text, even if he ignored it.

_From: Holy Momo_

_To: Mad Dog_

_Hey, are you feeling okay?_

She switched off her phone and turned her attention to the match between the teams Karasuno and Tokonami which was in full swing however there was a serious gap in athletic abilities with Karasuno easily taking the lead. Most of Seijoh got bored pretty quickly and dispersed off to go watch other matches leaving only Momoko, Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Kindaichi left.

The brunette glanced over at Oikawa, two seats away from her only to see that he looked incredibly uninterested, sprawled out on the chairs around him and staring at the ceiling. She narrowed her eyes and threw a crumpled-up page of her notebook at him, nailing him in the side of the head. Her aim was improving each time she threw something at him.

"Sit up properly you idiot!" She whisper-shouted at him. "Are you actively trying to publicly embarrass us all?" 

"Jeez Momo-chan, you're in a bad mood today. Jealous of my fans?" Her stare grew increasingly hostile every second that ticked by. Her situation really was one where she would both kill and kill for Oikawa Tooru. 

"You wish, Shittykawa." The manager got to her feet and joined the other two boys by the railing, ears red with anger. 

At that point it was pretty much obvious to everyone watching that Karasuno would win not just the first set but the whole match judging on the score of 22: 12. She had to admit that what they were doing was pretty impressive but judging by what she'd seen so far, they still weren't much of a challenge for Seijoh. They wouldn't be playing till the second round of matches and only one game on the first day. Waiting would be torturous especially since she had such little knowledge or interest in the sport. 

Time ticked by so slowly that it was starting to feel as if her brain would melt. Kyotani still hadn't answered her message over the span of all the matches in the first round being completed, her making three trips to the vending machines and Oikawa being smacked by Iwaizumi a grand total of twelve times. 

Finally the time came for Seijoh to start warming up before their match and she hadn't felt so relieved all day. She honestly wanted nothing more than to go home and watch tv in ugly men's large pyjamas just because the fact that she could fit her whole body into the one shirt made her feel safer. 

"Hey, Momo-chan. You know that only one manager per team is allowed down on the bench during the match, right?" Hirose had taken her to the side where their conversation couldn't be overheard by any nosy teenage boys. 

"No I didn't actually which is probably why you should be there, I'm perfectly happy cheering from the stands." The girl easily forfeited, also feeling like it was too much responsibility to be down on the court. 

"Wait, please do it instead of me." She was pulled closer to her friend by a tight grip on her hands. "I did it all last year and I hate it. I'd really appreciate it if you did it instead, all you have to do is give moral support and keep their water bottles full."

At first she was suspicious. Was there some huge con about the task which had deterred Hirose from doing it? But, if she was being honest, she wanted desperately to see Oikawa play for real, to the best of his ability. She knew well that it would only result in her falling even more for him but she was already neck-deep and doubted there was any saving herself. Might as well give up. 

"Okay." 

And that was how she found herself awkwardly staring at the group of teenage boys, trying to conjure up words of support to help give them confidence despite knowing that this would be an easy win for them and her words wouldn't mean much. 

Momoko took a deep breath and averted her gaze to her comfortable running shoes which she doubted she would ever actually use to go running. 

"This is gonna sound really cheesy and feel free to tell me to shut up whenever but over the course of these weeks that I've been working as your manager I have witnessed firsthand the time and effort and dedication you all put into this whether you regard it as a lifestyle or just a hobby and I have to say that I'm impressed. I don't know much about this sport but I'm incredibly confident that you will all go on to impress me even further no matter if you win or not.

"Believe it or not but in the little time I've known you all I've come to care about this team more than I have about anyone else in all my life. You have all been so kind and helpful to me and it may not seem like much coming from the mouth of a plain, boring nobody like me but in my eyes you are all incredible and there is nothing in this world I can do to show how much you all mean to me."

She immediately regretted her monologue after reciting it and felt unbelievably mortified. Just as she'd braced herself for mocking jeers and laughter she was squeezed into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Aw, Momo-chan!" She was sure that the third year was about to snap her spine and even if he didn't his fangirls surely would. "Stop or you might just make me cry." 

Had she not been on the verge of unconsciousness she might have noticed quite a few other members of the club wiping away stray tears or the soft gazes being thrown her way. When she was finally released and was able to breathe, the small group let out a unanimous cheer and broke off so the match could begin. 

~~

Watching Seijoh play volleyball was an awe-invoking experience. They clearly surpassed the other team in talent and potential but she couldn't help but find it beautiful the way the ball rested in the palms of the setter for a mere second before being launched into the air once more. She never would've thought that an intense game of 'Don't let the balloon touch the floor' could look so beautiful even if it was being played by sweaty teenage boys. 

The match was easily won in two quick sets but she found herself incapable of words. Images of Oikawa's powerful jump serves and Iwaizumi's terrifying spikes relayed on loop in her head, leaving her in a dazed and dreamlike state. The difference between practice and actual matches was astounding and she could barely comprehend that this was the same team she'd been helping for the last few weeks. Momoko had known well that they were good but certainly not that good. 

"So...?" Oikawa had turned around in his seat to face her when they were back on the bus, sunset casting shadows of beautiful yellows and pinks across his handsome yet annoying face. "What did you think? Was I even better than you'd thought I was?" 

"Yes, actually." She'd mumbled out, not meeting his eyes and instead staring out the window at the team's slowly filtering out, some faces lit up with joy, others tear-stained and hopeless. "Your skill in volleyball almost exceeds your ability to piss other people off." 

"Hey!" 

She barely managed to crack a smile. Teasing him and interacting in such a familiar way really felt amazing. 

"But seriously, it was so beautiful to watch you play." Her eyes suddenly moved up to meet his piercing gaze. "But I was simultaneously terrified out of my mind." 

"Terrified? Why?" 

Momoko snorted. There was no possible way that he didn't know how quickly his persona shirted once he was on the court. It was like the flick of a switch, effortless but results incredibly noticeable. 

"You really can be an idiot sometimes." She laughed airily, voice echoing through pout the enclosed space. "But I love you for it." 

He didn't know how sincerely she actually meant those words and waved them off. "Shut up, girls are just too confusing and complex for anyone besides themselves to understand." 

She went home with a strange warm fuzzy feeling in her chest which warded off the cold night air. Perhaps her entire existence wasn't cursed and her life was starting to take a turn fir the better. She had people who actually cared about her, however strange the notion had seemed to her at first and it made her feel as though she was floating, drifting among the clouds on a warm summer's day. 

Had someone told first-year Momoko, sitting in her locked bathroom with a bottle of pills that things would get better, she wouldn't believe them. A year later and she couldn't have been more grateful that she didn't go through with her plans. 

Life wasn't composed purely of fortunate or unfortunate events, she realised that now. It was a mixture and she'd been so focused on the negatives that she hadn't taken the time to stop and see all the good in her life. It was all the shitty stuff that made the good moments so much more amazing and now that she understood that she believed she could start truly living her life. 


	13. Failure

The second day progressed much in the same way as the first however far busier with a total of three matches if they continued to win. Their first match was set to take place sometime around noon against Karasuno High School as the third game that day.

The team did not appear to be very nervous while warming up, they'd easily defeated Omisaki the previous day but Momoko could feel the tension in the air laying thick on her skin. She supposed the two teams had some sort of rivalry before she'd joined the club. The looks they sent each other's way were terrifying and all she knew was that she wanted nothing to do with this apparent feud. 

Dodging stray balls, she watched Oikawa like a hawk. She was almost positive that he'd stayed up the whole night, probably rewatching the match between Karasuno and Date Tech, when passing by his house so she could go to the store to buy milk at three thirty that morning, she'd seen light streaming from his bedroom window. He'd also blatantly ignored her text ordering him to go to bed. The brunette was pretty sure Iwaizumi had also picked up on this and was glaring at Oikawa with a newfound irritation.

Sometimes he really worried her, not just in a way in which she was concerned over whether he was getting enough sleep but also his obsessiveness and mental health.

"What's up with the long face?" Hirose reached up to tug at her cheek. "You know they're going to win, right? Seijoh is far more experienced and has a better understanding of its players differences-"

"That's not it." Momoko sighed. "Doesn't Oikawa look tired to you?"

Her redheaded friend hummed as she stared thoughtfully at the boy in question. "I suppose so but he always looks like that during competitions, don't worry about it."

A much louder, wearier sigh was heaved from her lips. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, to simply stop worrying, to stop caring, to stop her pain.

A ball rolled to a stop by her feet and she picked it up, the small kid from Karasuno who bore a large white number ten on his jersey ran over.

"Sorry, s-" He stopped in front of her and stared up. Her first thought was that he had been scared by something so she checked behind her just in case that there was a murderer ready to stab her in the back but saw nothing but empty air and the much fuller crowd.

"Are you okay?"

"You're tall."

His words cut into her like a knife. She wasn't extremely tall, not compared to the rest of the volleyball club but she stood 5'10 which was certainly more than average for a girl and she stood at least six inches taller than #10. She supposed she was rather insecure about her height but it was more of a problem when she was younger. Recently, her problems hadn't been focused on her height but rather her other flaws which were more internal.

"Excuse me?" He inched away as though spooked by the quietly spoken words and soft expression. 

An older boy with silver hair ran over and began frantically apologising for his teammate's rudeness as she could do nothing more but watch on pensively. From what she could tell from the interaction, they were a lively team with more of a connection than she'd originally presumed. But she was still convinced that Seijoh would triumph.

The match began as she'd expected it to, a weak starting serve from #11 which was easily intercepted and sent to Oikawa who had slammed it down on the other side of the court with phenomenal force, Momoko was sure if she had even attempted to receive it, both her arms would snap off like twigs. Glancing into the crowd she saw a whole cheering squad from her school donning the signature white and turquoise colours as well as a small group of fashionably dressed girls, hair styled to perfection who she assumed were there to cheer for Oikawa. She wasn't even remotely surprised.

"Go, Go, Tooru!" The cheering squad almost blew out her eardrums. "Push it, push it, Tooru! One more!"

Karasuno seemed to understand that they were in trouble judging by the suddenly tense atmosphere which lasted barely three seconds before Oikawa opened his big mouth, subsequently pissing the other team off.

Momoko watched as Karasuno grew increasingly annoyed as Oikawa pulled more and more tricks from under his sleeve. He went from turning a spike formation into a set to something as simple as his killer serves. She couldn't help but admit to how talented he was even if he endlessly got on her nerves. She loved him which meant she saw his flaws more clearly than most and wished to go back to the days where she could simply worship him as though he was some kind of almighty god or deity.

However, to her immense surprise, Karasuno's setter (who looked oddly familiar) seemed to be putting up a formidable fight against Oikawa. His face was set with determination, no pun intended, to beat the older boy at his game and she had to give him major props for that. 

Seijoh called a timeout fairly early on into the match, gathering around Oikawa who appeared to have discovered something about the opposing team's strategy.

"I'm pretty sure I'm right about this." He started with a trace of a smug smirk. "It's 'bring it' and 'to me'."

At first she was confused, her knowledge about the sport was still very minimal and she was unsure as to what he was referring.

"At first I noticed that the shrimp would always yell something when he'd move in on the ball, and I thought he seemed pretty stupid. But when they use that god-like quick attack, it appears they're using 'bring it' and 'bring it here' or 'bring it to me'. And with a normal one..."

"They're using 'to me'." The manager finished, delighted that she finally caught on, feeling slightly less idiotic than usual. 

A simple nod confirmed her answer. "But that shrimp's role is to be the decoy. They want us to focus our attention on him so let's just set up a simple rule."

Once again lost, Momoko sat herself back down on the bench. She didn't even know what role a decoy could possibly have to play in a sport like volleyball, it honestly made no sense to her. She tuned out the rest of the discussion, it wasn't as though she could do much to help anyway, and took to observing the crowd. Hirose flashed her a bright cheery smile and rolled her eyes at a group of squealing girls. The brunette mimed back, pretending to throw up. She really hoped the cameras were not picking up this exchange.

The match began again at the sound of the sharp whistle which pierced the air and signalled the continuation of the game. The dark-haired female looked on in vague understanding, ball flying back and forth, both teams steadily racking up points. Tension lay thick in the air, as though it was sitting on her skin and she wondered if any of the players would mind if she stole a sip of their drink. Well they couldn't exactly complain about it since she was the one who refilled them.

The first set seemed to be dragging on and she grew more and more uncomfortable as the minutes crawled by. She ignored the coach's reprimands on her constant fidgeting and pulled a face. She supposed she understood then as to why Hirose preferred to watch from the stands. Sure, there was an element of beauty seeing it all up close but it also meant that she was unable to make regular visits to the vending machine or go on her phone. 

Karasuno switched setters just as the point gap got to a point where almost everyone was certain that Seijoh would win, sending in the grey-haired boy from earlier. He caught her eye and flashed her a smile which could only be compared to the sun breaking through a dark curtain of clouds after a storm. She frowned. A lot of the tension which had been radiating from the court seemed to have dissipated. What on earth was his deal? He seemed to be almost a polar opposite to their other setter which she guessed was why he'd been subbed in, Karasuno's morale was vastly improved.

She turned her attention to Oikawa. Oh no, he didn't look very happy at the fact this new guy was seeing straight through all his plays. He bore the same expression when the shop claimed to be out of milk bread and that usually meant the whole team tiptoeing around him for the rest of the day. He really could be such a child sometimes. 

The boy bearing a large #2 on his jersey seemed to keep Seijoh stumped for a while and helped to even the playing field a bit and she could feel the sheer frustration oozing from their eyes. However the tables were reversed as Oikawa was once again in the position to serve. They were already at 21 points so she supposed that the first set would be concluded very swiftly. She was right, his serves alone brought them up to 24 which meant that all they needed was one more point before the second, and hopefully last, set. A back attack from Karasuno was unable to stop their streak however as they kept the ball in play and gained the last point as a block from #10 sent the ball out of bounds, leaving the score at 25-15.

Momoko breathed a sigh of relief, cracking her neck loudly. "Why is this taking so long?"

"Stop whining."

"Sorry Coach." she waited till his back was to her and flipped him off.

She handed out the water bottles and towels, which was literally the only reason she was needed down on the court, why they couldn't do the job themselves, she didn't know. It wasn't like it was a particularly difficult task or anything. 

She tried to shove a bottle into Oikawa's hands but he seemed too busy thinking to even realise that she was there. She did what any other person who was being ignored would do and began to strangle him with his towel. 

"Hey! Pay attention!" She then threw the white towel on his face. "Stop it with that annoying face or I'll get Iwaizumi-senpai to hit you again. If you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles."

"Shut up." He threw it back at her.

"Ew it's drenched in your sweat." She dropped it on the ground as though it were a boiling hot potato. "Gross."

"My sweat is not gross! It's a normal bodily function!"

"No normal human sweats as much as you do, you're like the Amazon River of sweating."

"Stop fighting!"

The pair knew better than to argue with Iwaizumi and stopped the screaming match, darting off to opposite corners, holding back fits of giggles. Their relationship sure was a strange one but Momoko was just happy she could even talk to him so easily these days. Going back a few weeks she got so flustered in his presence that it became hard to breathe but now she was able to function normally around him.

The second set went much as the first however Karasuno took a more offensive approach than before and kept the point gap very small, often times advancing over Seijoh by a few points. She'd been hoping that the game would be ended after two sets but was disappointed when the so-called 'Flightless Crows' won the set which called for a third. 

She loved watching volleyball, seeing her friends play, the raw passion burning in the players' eyes but sitting on an uncomfortable bench in sweltering heat for so long really distracted from the magic and enjoyment of it all. However painful it was, she couldn't help but notice Oikawa's face. The playful grin from earlier had faded and was replaced by the most terrifying expression she'd ever seen to grace his features. It seemed like he had a past with #9 who had been subbed back in and had regained his old rhythm.

She kept her eyes focused on the popular captain, gazing on in worry. She didn't claim to understand him nor did she feel a need to pretend she did, all she could do for him was to provide support and even then she had to judge whether or not she was overstepping her bounds. When she was however, she knew that she could rely on Iwaizumi to sort him out.

Oikawa Tooru was overall a pretty silly and childish boy however most of the time his smile was false, underneath of it lay bitterness and jealousy towards his genius underclassman who he was unable to surpass regardless of how hard he worked.

He was clearly pissed off but their was a drive, a desperate need to win the final set and to prove that although he may not have been a genius, he was the superior player.

Just as Momoko had predicted, the final set was eventually won 33-31. For once she hadn't been able to complain, breath taken away from what she had witnessed on the court. At first she had dismissed Karasuno as another team they would use as a stepping stone on their way to Nationals but this game had proved her wrong. She was no less than awed by their sheer passion and motivation. They had put up a formidable fight even if it had amounted to nothing in the end. They had lost the match but were nowhere close to failure. 

After the match had concluded, they had dispersed off. frustrated and angry, sad and defeated, heads hung low. In a sudden, impulsive decision, she ran after them, hair falling loose from its ponytail and tumbling over her shoulders in a knotted mess.

"Wait up!" They finally stopped and turned around to look at this strange girl hunched over and breathing as though she'd just ran a marathon rather than a few meters.

"Fucking hell you guys walk fast." She forced herself back up and stared at them. "This might not mean much coming from a total stranger who knows little to nothing about volleyball but I'm impressed. I haven't been with Seijoh very long but I know better than anyone how hard they work. In all the matches I've seen them play, both official and practice, none of them have shown me something even close to what you all did."

She paused, almost tearing up just at the very sight of them. "And I hate to say it, like I _really_ hate to say it, but I really believe that one day you will surpass us. With more time you will evolve and we will be left behind in your wake. And I'm sorry that for even a second I had thought you weren't worth our time. Still, even then you should not underestimate Aoba Johsai because we will still give it our all. Good job today. Bye bye."

With those final parting words she began to lazily stroll towards the entrance to the stands.

"Thank you!" She stopped and turned her head to glance at them. Oh no, were some of them crying? She was horrible with tears but really didn't want the whole mysterious aura she'd made go to waste.

"D-don't mention it. I was only stating my honest opinion."

She met with Hirose in the stands while the rest of the team took a break outside. They were to play again shortly in the the quarter-finals against Senseki High School. 

"Please take my place down there Sayori-chan." She practically wailed. "It's so hot and I'm exhausted!"

"Fine, fine. Are you impressed yet?"

"What do you mean 'yet'? I've always been impressed by them." She began trying to fix her hair, running her fingers through her bangs ina futile attempt to straighten them up. 

"Don't be so defensive, Momo-chan. I just mean that you look like you've seen their true potential today. I'm glad." Hirose shrugged her jacket back on and began to head down the stairs.

"Ugh, stop it with the wishy-washy bullshit."

"Sorry, see you later." 

"Yeah...later."

Although she wasn't a fan of sentimental moments, she couldn't deny that Hirose was right. That day she really had seen a whole new side to the volleyball team, her friends. Still, she would never in a million years say that to their faces.


	14. Hit It Until It Breaks

Momoko watched both the Senseki and Johzenji matches from the comfort of the stands, eating a popsicle and checking her phone every so often. Kyotani still hadn't replied to her text and she was starting to doubt that he ever would. 

Neither of the matches, although engaging enough, lived up to the Karasuno match beforehand. Even though she wanted to show support for her team, she easily became distracted by the match happening on the other court between Ougiminami High School and Shiratorizawa Academy. They were already in the second set and it was obvious who was going to win judging by the current score of 21-5 yet it was still so fascinating to watch. The aggression and power that Shiratorizawa had was a strange mix of mesmerising and terrifying. If there were teams like that in all sports she was happier than ever that she'd quit playing football after junior high. 

The brunette sipped the juice box in her hand while staring down at the court. They really were the terrifying powerhouse they had been rumoured to be. Was Seijoh actually expected to play against these monsters? Her stomach dropped at the thought. She really wouldn't be surprised if someone ended up dead. Never before had she wished so strongly the Kyotani was there simply because the familiarity of his murderous aura was so much better than that of a bunch of strangers. Also he didn't seem to hate her as much as he hated everyone else even though she didn't have a clue as to why. 

Momoko sighed heavily and could already feel a headache coming on like there was a tiny person inside her head hitting her skull with a hammer. If they had to face Shiratorizawa in the final, which they most certainly would, they were royally screwed. She wasn't even playing and she was scared of them. 

After the match with Johzenji was won, she met the rest of the team downstairs where they were congratulating each other. Save for Oikawa at least, he had taken to staring out at Court A where the other match was just finishing up, glare seemingly focused on their stern looking captain. How many rivals did this boy have exactly? And how the hell did he keep track of them all? Did people just naturally hate him or did he have to work for it? 

"The final isn't until tomorrow, stupid." She grabbed him by the back of his jacket and dragged him away from the doors. "Don't start stressing over it now or your performance will be affected when you actually have to play. Go home, have dinner and go to bed, no staying up late watching matches tonight or I will personally rip out your intestines and make jewellery out of them so I can sell them online." 

His childish smile was back, although extremely forced. "Wow Momo-chan, you can be really scary when you want to. I think my heart stopped beating for a second there."

Her whole face went red with anger and she pinched his ear. She would kill for Oikawa Tooru but she would also kill _him_ if necessary. "Shut up, acting like a dick won't make yours any bigger." 

"You wound me Momo-chan!" 

~

The following day, the tension was even more high-strung and painful. The cheers from the crowd were deafening and the temperature seemed even hotter than the previous day. The brunette was more than thankful that she would only have to suffer through one match that day. 

It hadn't taken much effort on Hirose's part to convince Momoko to switch places with her again. The brunette had agreed simply because she thought that down on the court she could somehow have more control on the outcome. She was oh so horribly wrong. 

She sat there on the edge of her seat, knees bouncing in anxiety as another otherwise perfect block was blown through like a sledgehammer through glass. It seemed as though all of Seijoh's strategy and expert planning was being foiled by pure force. It was painful to watch everything they'd worked so hard for being broken down in such a way but it was even worse to have to see their faces. Defeated. 

She wanted to scream, to cry and most of all, to go get food. She hated having to sit there and just watch it, it was one of the worst feelings that she could possibly describe. Completely and utterly powerless. It was something she could only compare to her third year in junior high when her football team had lost the last tournament any of the third years would ever play but so much worse and she wasn't even a player. She was just a manager, why did she care so much? 

It only lasted two sets. Two horrible and humiliating sets. Shiratorizawa treated them as though they were close to nothing in comparison to them. It was so close, all they had needed was a few extra points, a bit more. But they had played to the best of their ability, it was simply just not enough. They knew that and that was what made it so horrible. They couldn't just tell themselves that perhaps if they had put more effort in they could have won. Instead they had to live with the fact that they just weren't good enough. 

Tears in eyes, she avoided their gazes as they bowed to the stands. It took every ounce of her willpower not to start sobbing on the spot. Most of the boys were crying and she didn't think that she could handle that. A sinking feeling in her gut however told her that she would have to whether she wanted to or not. 

It was just a club. A club she'd only been a part of for a few weeks. She wasn't even a player, she just helped to organise things. Then why did she care so much? Why did it hurt her to see them sad? It didn't matter, of course there was always going to be superior teams, someone better, more experienced, who had more natural talent, that was universally understood. Bracing oneself for something didn't help. Defeat hurts just as much as it would without any preparation beforehand. 

The worst part of it all however, was Oikawa. The pure rage bubbling under his watery eyes, his clenched fists. He immediately excused himself to the bathroom, Iwaizumi following only a few seconds later and she had to come to terms with the fact that she couldn't help him. She didn't know him as well as she liked to think that she did. So she instead bid her goodbyes and made a half-assed excuse as to why she had to leave early. There wasn't anything she could do to help so her best option was to stay out of their way. 

Momoko walked for what felt like forever. It was probably a better idea to take a taxi or the bus home but it seemed as though all common sense had left her that day, as well as her sense of time. She walked the streets feeling more transparent than ever before, like a ghost. Her heart beat against an empty chest. It felt as though everyone who passed her could see straight through her, like she wasn't even there. Transparent. Nonexistent. How disgustingly fitting for a useless nobody like her. 

She eventually came to an abrupt stop outside of the frequently visited convenience store by her house. It didn't take long for her to decide to go and buy some food. As though in a trance, she enacted her usual routine, buying her instant noodles, filling the styrofoam cup with boiling water and making her way outside to one of the empty tables. 

Momoko hadn't even realised that she'd been walking around so long that the sun had set and the sky was now painted an inky black with the bright moon basking her tired face a brilliant silver. It was scary at how fast time seemed to have passed, like sand falling through her fingers. No wonder she was so hungry. 

The heat from her food warmed her whole body and made her soul feel slightly more at ease. She'd always loved nighttime, things seemed so much more peaceful although she knew that in the city it was just as hectic as the daytime. Silently, she stared at the empty streets, shovelling her ramen down her throat. 

"Hey there, stranger." She jumped at the words as Oikawa suddenly appeared in front of her, taking the seat opposite hers. He wore what appeared to be his pyjamas, plain white cotton shirt and loose childish pants which bore tiny alien faces. 

"Hey." A strained smile was briefly flashed as she avoided eye contact. Knowing him, he was still beating himself up over the loss and she didn't know what she could say to make him feel better about it. 

"Why are you still in your tracksuit?" He nodded towards her attire. 

She glanced up and tried to explain herself but no words came out of her lips. She couldn't just tell him that she'd been walking around town for almost five hours which had proved to be a very bad idea. Now that her mind was clear she felt the aching in her leg muscles and her feet. 

"Too lazy to change." Momoko eventually managed to choke out in between mouthfuls. "Why are you here? Didn't the rest of the team go out for food?"

"Usually we do but this time nobody was really up for it so this is tonight's dinner." He waved a full loaf of milk bread in her face as she shot a glare his way. 

"Seriously, as an athlete you should know better than to eat packaged food like this all the time. All your meals should include at least three different food groups." 

"You're one to talk." He jabbed a finger towards her own meal which was still releasing wispy steam into the cool night air. She would have retaliated with a bite of quick wit but was glad to see him smile, relaxing a bit. 

"I suppose that was pretty hypocritical of me, huh?" 

The pair fell into a comfortable silence for about five minutes, looking anywhere except each other before Momoko decided that she could no longer keep her mouth shut. She had to ask him, the question plaguing her mind and worry tormenting her soul. 

"Are you...okay?" 

"I'm fine." His tone took a complete one-eighty from before. She hadn't expected him to get so mad but knew that she had to keep going despite the pit of fear rising in her throat. 

"You know, it doesn't really matter that you lost. There's always Spring-"

"Shut up!" He abruptly got to his feet, slamming his hands down on the table. "Shut up, please." 

Momoko stared at him, dark eyes flooded with fear, throat dry and a pounding heart. She really hadn't expected the sudden outburst of anger from him. "S-sorry." 

He sat back down albeit very slowly. "It's okay. I just don't want to talk about it." 

She knew that she had two option. She could always drop it and change the subject, leaving him to suffer internally. Or she could press him and try to help a bit and risk having him yell at her again. 

"I'm really sorry but," Oh god, she hated herself. " _I_ want to talk about it. Don't interrupt me, just listen...please." 

He closed his mouth, reluctantly deciding not to argue with her though his eyes were cold and closed off. 

"I may not know anything about volleyball but I do understand how much it means to you. I've seen all the effort and dedication you put into it which is probably why it hurts so much. It hurts me too. And I also know that there's not much I can do to help. I'm just a manager after all, I refill water bottles and bring you towels, clean up the gym, I'm not a therapist or someone that can understand your pain." She fiddled awkwardly with her fingers, not quite sure what to say next, she was pretty much just rambling at that point but at least he was listening to her for once, hearing her words and soaking them in. 

"There will always be teams stronger than ours in many aspects but nobody else can do what you do, Oikawa-san. Nobody else can so easily bring out the best in their teammates while simultaneously exploiting the other team's weaknesses. That's pretty fucking cool in my books if it matters. Just remember..." Shit, she didn't know where she was going to go from there, she hadn't planned this long-winded speech. The brunette tried to think up of some bad slogan off the top of her head. 

"If you're going to hit it, hit it until it breaks." 

His silence made her start to doubt her expert bullshitting abilities. Was that as bad as an analogy as she'd thought it was? She prepared herself for him to start cursing her out, telling her that she knew nothing about him and to leave him alone. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut she braced herself for harsh words. Instead she was met by a small chuckle. 

"I suppose you're right." She furrowed her brows. Was she hearing him right? "Also, can I use that in my next interview? I think it would really hit hard with the fans." 

"Use what?" She was genuinely confused, cocking her head slightly to the side. 

"That whole 'If you're going to hit it, hit it until it breaks' thing. I like it." His smile was back and shining brighter than all the stars in the sky. 

No way did he actually buy her stupid word vomit. She was kinda proud of herself at the fact that he did. 

"'Course you can use it so long as you give me credit for my wonderful genius m-ow!" She tossed her long hair over one shoulder but hadn't anticipated her watch getting caught and pulling out a few knotted strands. Forlornly she plucked them out, one by one and pouting. 

"A genius indeed."

She furiously racked her brains for a good comeback, ears red in embarrassment . "You, my good sir, deserve a blow job from a pencil sharpener." 

"Poor delivery and awkward wording if I do say so myself." 

"I actually hate you." She poked out her tongue. "I never claimed to be the Einstein of insults so don't be such an asshole about it." 

The two teens finally parted ways fifteen minutes later on to their separate lives, feeling much lighter in spirit than before. The moon shone down, like a beautiful lady cloaked in silver walking through the night sky, ignored by those below her, too busy to care. 

Greeting her dark house, Momoko made her way upstairs to her room, only stopping to glance in at her father's, finding him peacefully sleeping. She softly closed her bedroom door behind her and sat down at her desk, taking a pen up in hand and starting to write. 

_Dear Asshole,_

_This letter has been written purely because I feel that it's been too long since my last and don't want you to think I've forgotten about you even though I doubt you care about these stupid letters. How's life going? Mine isn't too shitty for once although I can already feel the oncoming headache as exams approach. My grades aren't really bad but I'm not known for paying attention in class. There's just so much more interesting things to think about. Like penguins, penguins are super cool. Or cheap instant noodles, I always crave cheap store-bought food when I'm bored in class._

_Anyways, I heard about the loss against Shiratorizawa. Oh well, I know you'll whoop their asses next time for sure. Also there's no way that they're not on some kind of performance enhancing drugs. They were total monsters. Any one of them could easily crack open my skull with their bare hands. Still Seijoh put up a really good fight. So don't get too depressed about it, alright? You still have your fangirls and your charm and your teammates and your family and a million other things. Not to mention the fact that you are undoubtedly the best setter in the prefecture! If I see you moping around I'll seriously get mad at you though! Trust me when I say that you really don't want to see me when I'm angry._

_Quick question before I go, how should you approach someone if you think that they're avoiding you? Or at least not answering your texts? I'm socially inept and could really use the advice if it wasn't already painfully obvious._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Nobody._

_P.s I started watching this new drama with my friend and one of the actors looks exactly like you. He's also a murderous lunatic for your information._


	15. Exam Time

"That's it!" The brunette slammed her face into her book. "I'm dropping out of school!" 

Hirose rubbed comforting circles on her back in a futile attempt at calming her inconsolable friend down while Kyotani provided no help whatsoever. "Don't be so hasty Momo-chan, this stuff is really simple so long as you pay attention in class." 

Her advice was not welcomed. 

"You see the thing is, I _don't_ pay attention in in class. Therefore this makes no sense to me." Momoko groaned loudly, earning herself some concerned gazes from fellow classmates. "Can we please just skip volleyball practice tonight so you can go over all this with me? Please?" 

Exams were starting in a week and she was desperate. She hadn't even realised how far she'd fallen behind in her studies until she'd miserably failed the last three class quizzes. Normally she didn't bother paying attention in class and just read the book the night before exams and she would scrape out average results but then again that was back in first year, a much simpler and easier time. 

"Fine, but my grades aren't that much better than yours so I don't know if I'll be much help." Hirose scooted her chair closer and looked as though she was also starting to despair. 

"Then we can drop out together. It'll be like a bonding experience!" She lifted her face out of the book and stared imploringly at the other manager. "We can move to Sweden and start a coffee shop! Kyotani-kun, you can come too." 

"No." His words were blunt and simple, only glancing up from his phone for a split second. 

"I'll pass, I don't think my parents would appreciate me abandoning my education like that, even if it is a bonding experience." The red haired girl laughed, bright and clear. "Sorry I'm sure someone else will gladly be your drop-out buddy. Also none of us speak a lick of Swedish." 

"We can always take classes but then again that's a bit too much effort for me." She frowned, thinking more about the plan. "Yeah actually, you're right. It's impractical, we should just go to Tokyo or something."

Momoko pressed the tip of her pencil onto the soft skin on the pad of her index finger, slowly applying pressure until she drew blood. A single drop fell from her finger and splattered across the open pages of her history book, soiling the face of some old guy with a bad haircut. 

"But on a serious note, I'm so royally fucked for these exams. All I know about Heian aristocracy is that the royal palace turned into such a dream for art and literature that they really didn't give a shit about running the country and I don't think I'd get many points for saying that." 

She began to lightly suck on her finger to rid it of the blood. When she was a kid she'd gone through a period where she desperately wanted to be a vampire and tried to suck her own blood but gave up on the dream when she realised that vampire queen as a career didn't pay very well. 

"Need help studying?" The sudden pair of hands on her shoulders made her jump and she whirled around to face the owner in anger. 

"What was that for?" She lightly smacked his arm. "Sometimes I think you really are trying to give me a heart attack and it's not typically something people enjoy."

Recently, at lunch, Oikawa had started dragging Iwaizumi over to the second year classrooms so he could piss off Momoko while eating which was supposed to be her happy hour. She pretended to be annoyed by his presence but secretly enjoyed the extra time spent with him. Never would she admit it out loud, however. 

"I'm being serious Momo-chan! Do you want help?" 

She turned around fully in her chair so she was facing him. "I would love some help but not from you." 

A small almost-laugh from Kyotani was barely audible, he made his hatred for the captain no secret. Momoko was secretly proud, knowing fully how hard it was to make that boy laugh. Hell, it was a miracle to get even more than a non-hostile glare from him. Was she like some kind of mad dog-whisperer? That would be pretty cool but not a very flashy superpower. 

"You wound me." He clutched at his heart and pretended to faint while Iwaizumi looked on in extreme distaste. "And after I was so kind to offer my services." 

"You know," The other third year finally spoke up. "If you're struggling that much you might wanna accept the help. As much as I want to deny it, he's one of the top students in our class." 

Momoko and Hirose shared a dubious gaze. She knew that he was intelligent by volleyball standards at least but somehow it seemed if he was also a model student he would be too perfect to be true. Still, she was at her breaking point. What harm could it do?

"Fine."

~~

They hadn't exactly scheduled anything but the third year had taken it upon himself to follow her home instead of continuing down the street to his own house. By that point she knew better than to question him or his strange methods. Her main problem with him coming home with her was the fact that the whole house was incredibly messy when she'd left it that morning and her father would probably make a lot of stupid jokes.

"I'm home!" She slipped off her trainers by the door and dumped her bags in the hallway, Oikawa following her lead. She entered the kitchen and was expecting to see the towering pile of dirty dishes but was instead greeted by the cleanest room she'd ever seen. Was that a microwave? She'd thought that they'd lost that last year.

"Otosan! I think someone broke in and cleaned our kitchen!"

The thin and balding, middle aged man appeared in the doorway. "No, I got bored so I cleaned the-who is that?"

The female had momentarily forgotten that she had a guest over. Whoops. "Oh, this is Oikawa, he's helping me study for exams." 

The third year seemed to be nervous for some strange reason and brushed down his tracksuit. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Studying?"

"Yep." She wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"Okay have fun, shall I record tonight's episode of 'AKBingo!' for you?" 

Oikawa seemed baffled by something, confused gaze shifting between the father and daughter duo. 

"If you didn't I'd disown you." She joked, pushing past him and re-entering the hallway. "Missing an episode of what is obviously the most culturally advanced, revolutionary entertainment to ever exist would be a sin."

Momoko trekked up the stairs, dragging the third year in her wake and entered her bedroom. She felt like her room was similar to her in the sense that it was as plain and simplistic as one could get. Beige walls were sparsely decorated with the occasional picture of a forlorn little dark haired girl or cheap movie poster which most likely came free with a magazine of some sorts. Her bed, which was made for once, was pushed into the corner of the room as though sleep was an afterthought, curtains hung from over a single window but they were mismatched, one half a shocking red and the other a dull and faded blue. A large, round table was positioned in the middle of the room and was decorated in miniature drawings and carvings and held a pile of worn manga. An obviously second-hand desk stood underneath a certificate for a writing competition, and on the desk stood the only possession of hers which could be considered cool. Sleek design and flashing lights, she valued this computer more than her own life as a present from her mother, two years after abandonment. 

"Sorry," she spoke up quietly, kicking a skirt left on the floor under her bed. "It's not much and it's not clean but it should be okay for study."

Momoko sat down by the large table in the middle of the room and shoved the stack of manga off to make space before realising that she'd left her bag downstairs and momentarily excused herself to run down and fetch it. She briefly wondered if it was a bad idea to leave Oikawa alone in her room but by that point she was already downstairs and there was no point regretting it.

When she'd returned she found him staring at a specific picture she had shoved into one of the manga volumes. The only logical explanation was that it must have fallen out when she pushed everything off the table. She could feel her pounding heart in her throat and dropped her newly retrieved schoolbag onto the floor. 

"Who's this?" Oikawa looked up at her innocently, unknowing to what skeletons he'd unintentionally dug up. "She your older sibling or something? You're basically identical."

The female took two long strides forwards and stared at her mother's smiling face, painfully familiar, one she was forced to see almost every day in the mirror. The face she hated, the face which had caused her so much suffering and torment, her own face. 

"She's nobody." She snatched the photograph out of his hands and angrily tore it to shreds. "Just a bad memory, is all. What do you want to study first?"

He seemed to sense that it was a touchy subject and didn't touch on it again, although occasionally glancing at the ripped up scraps with a strange kind of suspicion in his eyes.

~~

The popular third year was a surprisingly good teacher and thanks to him, she felt slightly less stupid. She was shocked to find herself easily grasping concepts which had previously wrecked her head, understanding classes much better and far more confident for the exams. She was amazed at what he'd managed to do in a mere week. He claimed that he actually hadn't done anything, that she knew it all already and his beauty only helped her concentrate. He was half right.

The actual exams weren't as bad as she'd expected. All the things Oikawa had reviewed with her came up and she momentarily wondered if he could predict exam questions, if so, he could make a very successful business out of that. 

Even more to her immense surprise was the arrival of her results in the mail a few days later. Anxiety swelling in her chest, she ripped the sleek manila envelope open with one fell swoop and pulled out the dreaded piece of paper inside. Her dark eyes quickly scanned the letters written next to each subject. 

First, all she could think that there had to be some kind of mistake. Never before had she ever received such a magnificent report. Next all of that was replaced by pure joy. Momoko looked up at the sky and let the happiness soak right into her bones. She wanted the feeling to still be there when she was old. The brunette closed her eyes and savoured the moment, but never released her grip on the seemingly inconsequential piece of paper and ink in her hands. For the first time in forever her body and mind relaxed. In that moment there were no expectations upon her, no deadlines and no schedules to meet. 

Then, in a burst of energy, she took off sprinting down the street, uncaring of the fact that she was still dressed in her pyjamas and bright pink slippers nor that she wasn't even wearing mascara. 

She was delighted to see the boy she'd been looking for already outside, panting heavily while holding onto the fence outside his house. 

"Oikawa-senpai!" She was close to tears, face red and eyes stinging. "Look! Look! I got nothing below a seventy-one! It's a miracle!"

Without thinking she flung herself at him and squeezed him as hard as a python would its prey. For once she didn't care that he was so above her or the fact that he was very sweaty. Unexpectedly, he hugged back and went as far as to lift her up and swing her round.

"That's brilliant Momo-chan! I knew you could do it." He released her as she grinned up at him almost blindingly. "I've never tutored before so I didn't know if you'd actually pass."

Her smile immediately dropped and she frowned in disapproval. "What?"

" _Knock knock._ " Was he seriously trying to make a joke? And in English?

She answered in heavily accented English after some hesitation. " _Who's there?_ " 

" _To._ "

" _To who?_ "

" _No, to whom. And here I was thinking that this was your best subject._ "

She shot a poisonous glare his way. "I hate you, that was a horrible joke."

"Really? I thought it was sodium funny." If she didn't love him so much she would have choked him to death right that moment.

"That was even worse." She rolled her eyes, at him but really wanted to laugh at just how bad it was. "You're in desperate need of sustenance high in docosahexaenoic acid."

He pretended to wipe away a fake tear and held a hand to his heart. "I'm so proud of you."

At that she had to suppress a smile, it was so hard not to around him, even though he was an embarrassing dork at times. 

"You suck, Shittykawa."

"Stop stealing Iwa-chan's nicknames! Be original, my young lotus flower."

"How about..." She pretended to be thinking hard. "'That unidentifiable object my cat coughed up last week'?"

"Now that's just mean, Momo-chan."


	16. Cowardly Love

_Dear Asshole,_   
_I'm not too sure what to talk about in today's letter as there is absolutely, nothing going on in my life and I don't want to do my homework._ _I suppose I'll talk about the first time we met even though_ _I'm pretty sure you won't remember_ _it at all_ _but I can recall every minuscule detail_ _almost_ _like it happened yesterday. Does that sound as pathetic as it does in my head? It may also sound cliche and like I'm lying but it's_ _unfortunately_ _true. It_ _was_ _far from love at first sight but you've grown on me almost as though you are a colony of E.coli and I'm room-temperature Canadian beef._

_My years of pain started towards the beginning of my first year in Junior High, after being pressured into running our classes bake sale for the school festival._

_~~_  
She had one resonating thought inside of her head, echoing over and over again; ' _I don't want to be here_ '. She was ashamed at the fact that she'd been unable to say no to helping out at the bake sale. It was horrible because she wasn't allowed eat any of the delectable treats laid out in front of her nor could she avoid talking to strangers. Could she really call them strangers though? They were in the same school but she'd never spoken a word to anyone outside of her immediate friend group, however sad that sounded.

Every second was torture and she wanted nothing more than to throw the nearest chocolate cake at the next person to dare speak a word to her. The school festival was a stupid idea in general, she was forced to work in the annoying crowded and loud cafeteria instead of browsing the other classes' booths with her friends who'd ditched her without much of a thought.

Not that she was complaining, she was grateful that Inoue and Amano put up with her constantly tagging along but the sting of painful isolation always seemed present. Even surrounded by others in such a large crowd, she still felt so alone. This loneliness was like a vice on her heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It was slowly driving her mad, robbing her of her light and fuelling her nightmares. Where was the limit? When would the pain finally cease? When would the dogs be called off and help would begin? She needed to know, she really did. Sometimes she wondered if ending it all was the only possible way to end her isolation.

"How much are those?"

Momoko jumped at the sudden appearance in front of her. She slowly brought up her eyes to meet his gaze and stared blankly at him. He looked familiar. Wasn't he on the volleyball team? Oh yeah, all the girls seemed obsessed with him, even if she couldn't understand the hype, she'd seen him play and knew he was pretty good. She'd often sat through hour-long discussions Inoue and Amano had with him as the main subject, but what was his name?

"Um..." She furrowed her brow and pointed a single finger at the white card in front of the plate of cupcakes he was gesturing to. "¥200 for each one, it says so right here."

The female was tempted to ask him if he could read but held her tongue.

"Sorry, I just wanted an excuse to start a conversation." Her heart stopped and she suddenly felt rather light-headed. "You looked sad."

Even in the stifling heat of summer, she felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. She'd never desperately tried to conceal her ever-present frown but nobody had ever confronted her about it.

"I'm fine, just tired." Her answer was too hasty to be truthful and she avoided his eyes. "Look, are you gonna buy something or not?"

He wordlessly handed over a few coins and plucked up a single cupcake, iced with a poorly drawn smiley-face, thrusting it in her direction. Confusion clouded her dark eyes. What on earth was he doing? The boy stared at her imploringly until she hesitantly took it from his grasp and had disappeared into the crowd before she could even utter a lame sentence of gratitude.

Imada Momoko, in her almost fourteen years of living, had never been at such a loss of words. She stared down at the wonky smile with a strange feeling in her stomach. Was it possible that somebody cared? No way, he was most likely just some weirdo that girls only liked cause he was handsome, that was it. That had to be it. Nobody cared about her and it was stupid to think so, even if it had just been for a second.

His name suddenly struck her like a punch to her gut. Oikawa Tooru. Yeah, total weirdo.  
~~

_Ever since that first meeting, and don't think I'm some creepy stalker, I went out of my way to find out more about you. I'm not going to lie, I though you were pretty strange at first but I suppose I was subconsciously not trying to get up my hopes that somebody cared about me. I didn't realise that I was hopelessly in love with you until I accidentally bore witness to what seemed to be a personal affair while running errands for the football coach._

  
~~

Yet again stuck doing someone else's dirty work, sometimes she hated the fact that she was incapable of saying no. After the football team had borrowed cones from the volleyball storage closet for extra drills, she was the one forced to put them back. As to why the school couldn't just buy more cones, she didn't know but there was probably some half-assed excuse they fed to any student who enquired about it.

When she'd entered the gym, the boys' volleyball team seemed to be finished practice and were on their way to the changing rooms so she didn't think it would pose a problem if she just slipped in to return the obnoxiously luminous cones. Apparently, since she'd disappeared into the storage closet, everyone except two third years and one first year had vacated.

The sudden loud smacking noise and yelling were the first signs that she probably should not have been there. She dropped all the equipment in her arms, startled and carefully padded towards the door, cracking it open to peer out, sheer curiosity getting the better of her.

The scene outside was a strange one to behold. Oikawa Tooru was in a deep lunge, arm positioned in such a way that it looked as though he was caught in the middle of backhanding someone. She assumed that someone was a small first year who was looked up innocently at his upperclassman. Another third year was holding the captain back, eyes burning with rage. She felt out of place in what looked to be a highly personal matter.

"Calm down, you dumbass!" Her mind went wild trying to find an escape route.

To her extreme relief, Oikawa reacted only with a meek apology and backed down. The first year was dismissed and ran off with seemingly no understanding of what had just transpired. Still she was trapped as both third years remained.

"The change-up today was to cool your head." Still panicked, she could think of nothing to do but eavesdrop and wait for the right moment. "You need more composure!"

"Right now I can't win against Shiratorizawa, so there's no way I can have composure!" She recoiled at the pain and frustration intricately laced into his words, both emotions hitting terrifyingly close to home for her. "I want to win and go to Nationals!"

Still able to hear every word clearly through the door, she slid down, back against the smooth wood.

"To win, I need to..."

"'I' this, 'I' that. It's annoying!" She bit lip so hard that she drew blood, the distinct taste of iron filling her mouth. A loud thump came from outside and she could only assume that Oikawa had been hit in some way by the other third year. She couldn't deny that it seemed like he deserved it though.

"Do you think you're fighting by yourself?" A drop of crimson blood fell onto her jersey. "You've got to be kidding, you dumbass! If you think how you're doing equals how the team will do, I'll punch you!"

"You already did!"

"There's no one on our team who can beat Ushiwaka one-on-one!" She wasn't sure who this 'Ushiwaka' guy was but assumed he was a rival of some sorts, how very sports anime. "However...there are _six_ players on a volleyball court! Even if our opponent's some genius first year or Ushiwaka, the team with the better six is stronger you dumbass!"

She turned her gaze to the cobwebbed ceiling of the storage closet and trained her eyes on a small black spider in the corner. Even though this boy was not talking to her, his words resonated with her. In that sense, she felt like she understood Oikawa Tooru. He was just as human as she was, had similar struggles and frustrations. He wasn't some untouchable god as his fans made him out to be.

"The team with the better six is stronger." Oikawa repeated, voice muffled.

He was bleeding too.  
~~

_Now that I think about it, I was a bit of a stalker hiding in the storage closet like that. For me, that was incredibly important as in that specific moment, I didn't feel so alone_ _or scared._ _And yet, after all these years, I'm still the same coward I've always been, I loved you from afar, isolating myself even further. I kept my feelings to myself and in doing so only fell further into a bottomless pit._

_So, Oikawa Tooru, will you accept a coward's silent love?_   
_Yours sincerely,_   
_Nobody._

  
~~

Momoko regretted writing the letter the second she'd left it in the mailbox. If her words somehow triggered a memory, he'd find out that she was 'Nobody' and most likely shatter her heart into a million pieces. She supposed she could always change her name and move to anywhere with free healthcare and good food.

School dragged on for longer than she would have liked but tried to pay attention in order to avoid another last minute panic. Key word: 'tried'. The highlight of her day, sadly enough, was Oikawa asking her to stay after volleyball practice so he could practice his spikes more.

It was late, full silver moon basking the school in an eerie and ghostlike light, crickets faintly chirping outside. She tossed another ball into the air, watching in awe as it was expertly slammed down onto the other side of the court. A sudden gust of cool night air came in from the open door and blew back her hair.

"It's getting late," She hesitantly placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go home and get some rest. I'll clean up and lock the gym."

He playfully shoved her. "No way, I'm not leaving you alone."

She felt winded, like some giant fist had clenched around her lungs. "I thought I told you not to overwork yourself! Iwaizumi-senpai will also get mad and you know better than anyone how scary he is when he's angry."

"Hey, Momo-chan."

"What?" She was sure he was about to say something stupid and mentally braced herself.

"Do you wanna come help me coach the 'Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom' Monday after school since we don't have practice?" Her head snapped up in surprise. "My nephew, Takeru, does it."

She was baffled and unable to speak for a good thirty seconds.

"Why would I help out?" She was genuinely confused. "I know little to nothing about volleyball and would only hinder you while you're trying to teach."

He shot her a stern look. "Can't I just appreciate your company outside of school?"

"Why would you want to?" She began cleaning up, tossing the balls into the cart, one by one.

"Because, believe it or not, I enjoy hanging out with you!" He lightly bounced a volleyball off her head.

She thought about it, heart thumping in her chest. Did he mean that? There was no benefit to her tagging along so why would he suggest it? Fuck it, her father was right, she did overthink everything.

"Okay." His eyes lit up. "But only because I have a soft spot for kids and I'm sure they all talk shit behind your back about your stupid hair. Now go get changed, I'm not gonna wait for you and I'll lock you in if you take too long."  
~~

Dressed comfortably, clearly not trying to impress anyone, Momoko exited her house in a pair of loose pink sweatpants and a shirt of the famed boyband Arashi, who she'd been obsessed with when she was younger. Oikawa was waiting outside for her, dressed in his volleyball uniform, a small boy holding his hand and talking animatedly about a new model train he'd gotten for his birthday.

"Momo-chan!" He flashed her a blinding smile. "You ready?"

"Hey there." She flat out ignored him and bent down to look at the small boy instead. "You must be Takeru, I'm Imada Momoko, your Ojisan has told me a lot about you."

"Don't call me that," the third year whisper-yelled. "It makes me sound old."

Takeru grinned up at her, the same smile as his uncle. "I know, Tooru talks about you a lot."

Slightly taken aback, she bent up to full height. "Really?

"Yeah, it made his girlfriend really m-OW!" Oikawa pinched his nephew's ear, halting the boy mid-sentence.

The brunette glared at him, partly because she didn't condone hurting such a cute little boy and partly because she hadn't even known that he had a girlfriend. Did they only recently get together and he hadn't had a chance to tell her? Or was he keeping the relationship a secret so the girl wouldn't receive angry looks everywhere she went?

The trio made their way to the youth club where they were greeted by a small crowd of children from ages six to twelve. Some stared at Oikawa warily and she suddenly realised why he wanted her help. They were _scared_ of him. Hard to believe considering how lame and immature he was but when playing volleyball he often transformed into a completely different person.

She didn't do much aside from what she usually did as manager in school but could also see that they were short-handed and her help was appreciated by the owner. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if she tagged along a few other times, besides her and Oikawa, there were only another two people on staff and they seemed exhausted. It was the least she could do.

Momoko had always had a bit of a soft spot for kids, they were always so much easier to talk to than people her own age. They didn't judge her for her strange habits or sense of style. It was incredibly refreshing. It was also unbelievably amusing when Takeru accidentally smashed a ball into Oikawa's crotch.

She left the place feeling light and bubbly, a small skip in her step.

"Tooru, teach me how to serve!" The young boy demanded for the sixth time that day, as to why the older boy did not simply relent, she didn't know but was considering smacking him if he refused again.

"Hey! How about showing me some respect first?"

She pierced the side of his head with her glare. "And you wonder why the kids hate you."

"O-Oikawa-san!"

They all stopped in their tracks to look at the source of the voice. She recognised the boy, she'd seen him at the Interhigh Preliminaries. Number nine from Karasuno, right? The genius setter who had a history with Oikawa. What the hell was he doing here of all places on a Monday afternoon?

The third year looked down his nose at the younger boy as though he were a pile of dog faeces by the side of the road and let out a noise of sheer indignation.

"O-Oikawa-san, what are you doing here?"

Placing his hand on his hip, her friend replied. "Momo-chan and I are watching my nephew."

"Hey!" The small child and female replied in unison, raising their hands in a wave of greeting.

Without sparing them a glance, he maintained his focus on the tall boy. "H-hey...what about club?"

"We usually have Mondays off."

"If we didn't, this one would work himself to death." She poked his side. "Although then there'd be one less problem for me to deal with."

"You're so mean yet still so radiant." He dropped the snobbish glare for a split second turning his head to look at her in mock heartbreak.

"Shut up, you arse."

"Y-you take a day off during the week? That's such a waste!" She switched her glare to the newcomer whose name she still did not know. So he was another volleyball freak? They all seemed to be just appearing out of nowhere, spreading like cockroaches or a nasty case of the flu or perhaps some less disgusting analogy which the author is currently unable to come up with.

"Resting and skipping are two different things." He began to walk past the boy, the haughty air around him swiftly returning. "See ya."

Momoko and Takeru followed in his wake, unsure of what else to do.

"O-Oikawa-san, um..."

"Nope! Stupid!" Back was the immature and childish boy she knew so well, pulling a face while his two companions stared at him in disapproval. "You're stupid! You stupid face!"

"I haven't even said anything yet!" She felt a bit of pity stir inside of her for the boy, Oikawa could be very difficult at times and understood how frustrating the situation was for him. "O-Oikawa-san-"

"Nope! Can't hear you! Can't hear a thing!"

Just as she was about to scold her upperclassman for setting a horrible example to his nephew, the Karasuno first year bent himself into a low bow, startling all those watching.

"Please listen to me for a second."

"Why should I have to listen to what my opponent has to say?"

Momoko gave his shoulder a hard shove. "For the love of God, just listen to him! If you drag this out any longer all the restaurants will be closed!"

Oikawa snatched up her wrist and began to drag her away, down some concrete steps. "Where do you want to go? We can get takeout or-"

"Please Oikawa-san!" He remained to please as they walked off. "Please! Please!"

Number nine had suddenly sprinted forwards, and stood in front of them once again, blocking their way. "Please!"

"Takeru." The older setter spoke up after recovering from his initial shock and staring down his nose at the other boy who was still in a low bow.

"What?"

"Take a picture." He handed over his phone and began showing the child how to take a picture as Momoko stared at him in utter disbelief. He really did baffle her sometimes, with his change of character. Her glare intensified as he moved to pose in a similar way to many Instagram models.

"Yay! I'll call this, 'Tobio is no match for Oikawa-san'!"

"Tooru, you're actually happy about this picture? Lame." Takeru unenthusiastically took the picture and looked at it, clearly unimpressed. She glanced at the phone over his shoulder and immediately burst into a fit of giggles. Oikawa was completely blurry, his features barely recognisable, she could already picture the tantrum he'd throw about it later.

"I have to say, this picture really does your beauty justice." She gave the young child a high five.

She left Oikawa to begin discussing whatever is was this 'Tobio' guy wanted from him as she got to work, sending the picture to her own contact and inwardly celebrating that she finally got a bad picture of the boy.

"Well, what do you want? I'm busy you know."

"You said your girlfriend dumped you so you had free time!"

She had never been so happy that kids rarely thought before they blurted things out. So he _was_ single? Maybe they were only together a short amount of time before they broke up and that's why he didn't tell her? Did that even qualify as an excuse?

"Takeru! Shut up!"

So did his girlfriend dump him because he was supposedly talking about Momoko a lot? Or was it the fact that he spent all his time at volleyball practice? Or was it all the flirting with his obsessive fangirls? Or perhaps it was just his personality in general?

"What? But when you came, you said you didn't know what you did wrong..."

"I told you to shut up!"

She couldn't help but be incredibly thankful for Takeru's big mouth. So the break up must have been fairly recent since the specific wording suggested that he himself had only found out earlier that day. Should she confront him about the matter? Was she overthinking this again? Probably. Why couldn't she just mind her own business for once and not drive herself crazy with conspiracy theories?

"You're basically a coward." She was snapped out of her thoughts by that sentence before delving straight back into them. He wasn't even talking to her, but it certainly felt like it. Her last letter was pretty much entirely about how cowardly she was. Great, now her good mood had completely diminished and was replaced by those annoying echoes telling her that she wasn't good enough. Would never be good enough.

"Let's go, Takeru, Momo-chan."

She looked back up from her feet and started to jog after him but not before stopping in her tracks to gaze at the dark haired first year. She shot him a weak smile of pity and patted his back. "Don't look so tense, it's not a good look on you."

"Momo-chan!"

"I'm coming, Asshat!"

Walking down the street, Oikawa began to hum softly to himself, clearly delighted with himself.

"Are you in a good mood, Tooru?" Takeru handed him his phone back.

"I'm happy that Tobio's more run-down than I thought he was."

"You're disgusting." The manager fell back so she was beside him, watching as he opened up his photos.

"I'm totally blurry!"

"You can't deny that you really deserved that." His disappointment made her feel slightly better. "Also, you're still buying us food."

"You're evil, Momo-chan." He faked betrayal. "You said this photo gave my stunning beauty justice! To toy with my feelings in such a way? Traitor!"

She let out a low chuckle, taking amusement in his overdramatic reaction. "You can't say that evil doesn't suit me though."


	17. Begone Thot

Before she'd even had a chance to realise it, Momoko had fallen into a steady routine in the evenings. She changed out of her volleyball tracksuit, got that day's post, had dinner and did her homework while watching tv before finally going to bed after answering some random texts from Oikawa (man was not afraid to quadruple text). She wasn't complaining, she very much disliked change.

Before she'd made the mistake of opening her post box, life felt calm and glassy like a completely still body of water. That water was spilled the second she began rooting through the mail. A postcard lay among the various bills and advertisements.

The brunette turned it over in her hands, greeted by a picture of a few snowy mountains and a pale blue sky. She didn't have a clue as to who on earth it could be from, her dad didn't really have many friends, let alone ones overseas and neither did she. She assumed that it was probably sent to the wrong address by accident but being the nosy teenage girl she was, she began to read the hastily scribbled words.

_My Dearest_ _Momoko,_   
_I understand that you are most likely still ma_ _d_ _at me_   
_for the mistakes I've made in the past but please know_   
_that I've changed for the better. I'm only writing this_   
_because my family and I are going to Japan on holiday_   
_next week and I would love you to meet your siblings._   
_Just know that_ _I love you, I always have, and I regret_   
_leaving you behind in the way I did._ _It's the worst mistake_   
_I've ever made and I want nothing more than to fix it._   
_Best wishes,_   
_Your Okaasan._

Her initial instinct was to drop the postcard, breathing laboured and a clammy sweat building up on her palms. At first she felt pure and raw anger, seething out of her in dangerous and fiery waves. She _hated_ that woman with every fibre of her being. She couldn't even see her as a family figure anymore. With the amount of problems she'd caused her and her father, how could she not want to gouge her eyes out?

In a fit of rage, she snatched the postcard back up into her tight grasped and marched over the the living room where flames danced joyfully in the fireplace. Footsteps heavy, Momoko threw herself to her knees, without even caring about the carpet burn and tossed the only communication she'd received from her mother since she was ten into the destructive beauty of her fire, just wanting it gone. The second she did, however, regret and overwhelming sadness crushed her.

Panicked, eyes widening as they were pricked with salty tears, she did something incredibly, unbelievably stupid. She thrust her left hand into the fire and extracted the half burnt piece of card from it. Crying out, both in immense pain and melancholy, she then dropped it to the ground and stomped out any leftover flame. She cradled her left arm by her chest, sobs of anguish racking her body as she internally cursed herself.

After all those years of financial struggle and emotional torment, this stranger tries to reconnect their broken and irreparable bond. Momoko didn't even know that she had siblings. No, she didn't, that _lady_ was not her mother therefore her kids were not her brothers and sisters. Blood relation meant nothing to her.

She didn't care but at the same time, she really, really did. She hated herself for saving that damned postcard from the fire and not just because blisters were already forming on her hand. She supposed that deep down she couldn't bring herself to completely cut her mother out of her life regardless of how much she wanted to erase her existence from the earth.

Finally able to stand up after a half hour of hysterics, she picked up the ruined postcard and shoved it into her schoolbag. She couldn't, no matter what, let her father see it. She'd heard him up late, still crying over that disgusting excuse for a woman. If he read that postcard, it would destroy him and his already fragile mental health. Like father, like daughter, she supposed.

The following day, she felt incredibly self-conscious about the obnoxious white bandages wrapped tightly around her hand. It was like a flashing red sign above her head telling everyone that she was the stupid idiot who thrust her hand into a fire because she was too sentimental to cut toxic people from her life.

"Morning!" Hirose greeted her cheerfully by the door to the gym, having just arrived herself. "You're earlier than usual, just wanted to see me that badly, huh?"

"Yeah." Her voice sounded distant, as if it wasn't really her saying it but instead an empty shell of herself.

"You okay?" Concern was evident in the redhead's eyes. "Why's your hand all bandaged up? Do you want to talk?"

She wasn't sure how to respond but managed to whisper out a few words on her mind. "It is a lonely feeling when someone you care about becomes a stranger."

"What?"

"Nothing." It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head and she was suddenly back into reality. Slapping on a grin and tugging her jacket sleeve over her hand she replied. "I'm just really tired, stayed up all last night binging that drama you recommended the other day. Still can't believe that my favourite character died!"

"But what happened to your hand?"

"Oh...I was just trying out this new recipe for shrimp tempura and ended up burning myself, it's nothing to worry about." Her smile became strained and the light in her eyes flickered dimly.

"Did you go to the doctor?"

"No, but I'll be fine."

Lies, lies. They were spilling out of her mouth constantly and incessantly. She couldn't stop now, she was too far gone for any sort of redemption.

She felt like she played her role well, nobody else seemed to notice anything wrong with her and she was able to get through most of the day without anymore weird questions after she'd explained her injury. But there was something in the pit of her stomach telling her that someone saw through her mask of lies. He stared at her suspiciously all through practice and lunch. She could no nothing more but ignore his persistent gaze.

A tap on her shoulder drew her attention to the boy who sat behind her in class during lunch that day.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen?" He asked with a bright grin. 

"Yeah of course." She turned to Oikawa who was closest to her bag. "Oikawa-senpai, can you get out my pencil case from my bag?"

Wordlessly, he reached towards her bag which lay on the floor and pulled out her pencil case which was buried under a heap of books. She failed to notice the small item he'd also extracted along with the pencil case.

"Here you go." Momoko handed over a pen to the boy behind who'd taken it into his grasp and thanked her politely.   
She noticed that Oikawa sure was acting oddly but nobody else questioned it as they returned to the previous conversation about who was most likely to die first in a zombie apocalypse.

Purposefully she lost herself in their words and in doing so, missed the fact that Oikawa had taken the postcard from her mother and stuffed it into his pants pocket.   
~~

His eyes scanned over the slightly smudged words for the fifth time. Slowly, he began to piece everything together. It made perfect sense. With this new piece of evidence, he could now say with absolute certainty that Imada Momoko was his secret admirer, Nobody. All the puzzle pieces fit together perfectly.

He'd been suspicious before but this was the cherry on top. He sank slowly to the floor of the school bathroom, back against the stall door. Had Momoko been harbouring all of Nobody's feelings this whole time? If so, she desperately needed help. He felt guilty that he hadn't noticed it before, of course he'd seen the similarities but had dismissed them as blind hope of finding Nobody.

To think that she'd been bottling up all this self-hatred and he didn't even know about it. It made him feel sick but also even more desperate to help her and give her the support she so obviously needed. But how on earth was he supposed to do that? Contrary to belief, romantic relationships didn't solve every little problem, in fact they usually created more than there was before.

He had to confront her about it, offer help even if he didn't know how to. As to why he cared so much, he wasn't sure but that no longer mattered. He wanted her to see herself the way he did.


	18. A Confession

She didn't know why she'd been summoned to the school roof. She didn't want to know. A part of her seriously regretted listening to some stupid piece of paper left in her gear bag. What was she, the incredibly dense main character in a reverse-harem anime? She didn't even like anime that much! But then again, a secret part of her was hoping it was a confession from a secret admirer even if she knew she'd reject anyone but Oikawa. She was still a hopelessly romantic teenage girl after all.

Wait...what if this was actually a murder case waiting to happen? They'd catch her off guard and kill her quickly and without much hassle. She could already see the headlines: _Stupid High School Girl Murdered For Being a Stupid High School Girl!_ Actually, that was kinda funny. The most Momoko could really hope for was that the murderer wouldn't mess up her hair in the process.

The sky was rather nice that day, she couldn't help but take notice, the sun was steadily sinking down into the horizon as dark blues and purples descended from above, pushing down the brilliant swirls of orange and pink. The air was beginning to grow cold but she could still feel a layer of warmth on her skin fighting off the chill as though she were clutching onto a small shred of hope and belief that the sun wouldn't leave her alone to the loneliness of the night.

"We need to talk." The female jumped in surprise, she'd been so busy thinking about how her own murder scene would play out and stupid metaphors about the sky which didn't make much sense, she hadn't noticed someone come up from behind her.

She whipped around, slightly curious as to who exactly would be taking her life only to be met with a very familiar face. Her heart dropped down to her feet and she suddenly forgot how to breathe. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She was not at all prepared for this. Millions of anxieties shot through her body, making her muscles tense up and her dark eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

"Oh...hi." She finally managed to release the breath she'd been holding when he smiled at her. It was probably just some stupid prank. He was too smart to murder her in such a public place, or was he?. "What do you...want to talk about?"

Oikawa Tooru had always been someone people saw as being rather close to perfect but the reason that she loved him so fiercely was the fact that he wasn't. He was flawed, human. One of these flaws was his inability to function in an uncomfortable situation outside of volleyball. He appeared to be struggling to form a coherent sentence, stuttering and tripping over syllables so she tried her best to aid him. His hands plucked repeatedly and mechanically at the hem of his top and occasionally dragged his fingers through his hair.

"If you're going to murder me, might I suggest throwing me off the roof? Or burying me alive, perhaps?" She was doing a really bad job at lightening the situation. "You could always get a knife from the Home-Ec room!"

The manager was surprised to see him crack a small smile. "You really are impossible aren't you? I'm not going to kill you, Momoko, but I very well might if you keep saying stupid things that don't make any sense!"

A strange sort of serious and deadly atmosphere fell over the pair like a thick blanket, shutting out all else. Both strained smiles were quickly diminished into grim frowns.

"Fine..." She decided that he was actually not here to remove the soul from her body and grew anxious because that meant that he really just wanted to talk with her. 'Talks' were never a good thing from her experience. You had a 'talk' when your parents found out that you drank alcohol at a party thanks to embarrassing pictures online or when your significant other wanted to break up with you. Sometimes with your teacher when rumours circulated via your supposed 'friends' that you were doing business with older men. Not that that had actually happened to her or anything...but it had.

She tried to avoid his gaze and instead fixed her dark eyes on her scuffed volleyball trainers. "Just say it...don't worry about hurting my feelings, they're not important right now. Spit it out before I lose my mind."

How had he not seen it before? It was so obvious that Imada Momoko was the illustrious 'Nobody' who had been writing to him the whole year. Even the way she spoke about herself, it was sickeningly familiar. Oikawa felt a bit stupid for not catching on earlier. "I know who you are."

The words echoed horrifyingly in her head. She didn't need any more context. Oh no. Oh shit. Holy hell. It was like she was being forced to watch her own death, the light leaving her eyes and her body crumpling in on itself like a rag doll tossed to the side after the owner grows bored. The gig was up, this was the end of the line for her. Her life was officially over. She would have to change her name and move to somewhere with free healthcare and good food.

"Okay." Her voice trembled as she whispered out the single word. "Let me explain."

Momoko forced all her emotions down her throat, at that point there wasn't really any way she could further embarrass herself but she wanted to get this ordeal over and done with as quickly as possible. Tears would only slow her down.

Sure, it felt like she was walking along a tightrope suspended between two skyscrapers and that she would fall to her gruesome death at any moment but it wasn't like she could just back down now. She was sick and tired of always being so scared, fear could suck her dick, or at least it could if she had one. It was now or never.

"I am 'Nobody'." She forced herself to meet his bewildered stare. "Every word, every single feeling and thought I wrote in those letters was completely and totally true. They are my reality, my cowardice, my highest and lowest points in life. They depict me, Imada Momoko, aged seventeen, completely unfiltered. Those letters used to be my only escape, the only way to truly express myself without being told that I needed help or to be met with stares of disgust and pity. In a way, that was incredibly selfish of me, I know that better than anyone but I in no way regret any of my actions."

The female brunette took a step backwards as the boy made to move forwards, continuing. "But over time, they were not just a release for me, but a...way to help me realise something. I hated myself more than anyone else, voices would flood my head, constantly berating me about my flaws and petty problems but when I was writing, those voices were silenced. When I spend time with you, they become dormant. Eventually, they stopped even bothering to talk at all."

"Mo-"

"Shut up!" She screeched uncharacteristically, holding out her hands in front of her.

"Sorry...I really didn't mean to yell." She tugged at chunks of her hair in anxiousness, drawing back. "You know, people always say that you can't love someone until you love yourself but I call bullshit because I loved you so much that I, in turn, learned to...love myself."

She had never before felt such a great relief, she felt weightless, as though she could leap off the roof and fly away from the world. Damn did it feel good to get that all out. To admit all of that in front of him, to show him who she really was. The only problem was that now her biggest secret was out in the open and she'd ruined any tiny sliver of a chance she'd previously had of Oikawa Tooru possibly loving her back.

"I'm not sorry for that confession, you know? Even if I did sound a bit like a raving old lady." All the muscles in her face relaxed and for once, she looked like a normal and stress-free teenage girl, like she should have always looked. "Thanks for your time, Oikawa-senpai."

Before he had a chance to even say anything to her, to bring up the postcard or her mental health issues, she'd taken off down the stairs, long black hair flying out behind her. She didn't regret leaving him on the school roof until she was halfway home and by that time, it was too late. There was absolutely no turning back.

A part of her was terrified of what was to come but in the end her fear no longer mattered as she had just gotten over her biggest fear. Nothing could truly scare this coward now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ew i hate this


	19. Humiliation

Going to sleep, Momoko had felt amazing, like she'd just defeated the last boss in a mainstream video game. When she woke up, however, it was a totally different story. Everything she'd said the night before had just kinda hit her square in the face and she was left with an overwhelming feeling of mortification. She had never been so glad that her father still left for work before she did for school as it meant that she could easily stay home and avoid contact with the outside world without having to fake a cold.

In a desperate attempt to block out all her problems, she did what she always did when faced with an uncomfortable situation, she sat down in front of the television with a bowl of melted chocolate and ran from the inevitable. She'd been brave enough to last her a lifetime, a little her time would be a suiting reward. She'd go to school and tackle her problems the following day, definitely.

Momoko had always been the kind of girl who needed space from time to time but there was a significant difference between being alone and being lonely. This was most certainly lonely. That dull, hollow ache inside her chest, which was not particularly enjoyable. But, it wasn't like she could do much about it. Helplessness.

Two days. Two whole days of avoiding her problems and missing important schoolwork all because of one stupid boy. One stupid boy who would surely smash her glass heart on the floor, scattering the shards near and far. One stupid boy who had so easily wound his way into her mind. One stupid boy who had been kind and gentle in a time where she had nobody but herself. One stupid boy who meant the world to her.

The sound of frantic knocking echoed throughout the house, jolting her out of her dreamlike state. As to how long she'd been sitting there, staring blankly in front of her, she didn't know. Probably the whole day. The incessant pounding on the poor door continued as she checked the time on her phone. It was only half three in the afternoon which meant that it was most certainly not her father as he didn't finish work until six. But who else would come to her house?

"I'm coming!" She scampered down the hallway and swing open the front door, it being the only solution of stopping the loud knocking. "...Sayori-chan?"

The red headed girl leapt forwards and smothered the other pyjama-clad female in a tight bear hug.

"Oh Momo-chan!" She wailed, tear tracks staining her cheeks. "I heard all about it! Why didn't you tell me before?"

Baffled, Momoko wasn't sure what to do. Common sense told her that Hirose must have somehow found out about her whole situation with Oikawa. She slowly peeled the shorter manager off of her and shut the door which was letting in a cool draft.

Hirose's face was a bright crimson and she was panting hard, chest heaving, which suggested that she'd run the whole way. Her makeup was smudged, long mascara tracks down her cheeks and lip gloss clinging onto long strands of cherry-dyed hair. She still wore her school uniform which was disheveled and dirty, she'd clearly run there.

"Sorry."

"Stop it, Momo-chan. Please stop apologising, it should be me doing that." She trudged her way to the living room, collapsing on the worn couch. "I should have noticed but I didn't because I'm so fucking blind!"

Momoko wasn't going to lie, she was gobsmacked. She'd never heard her sweet little lamb of a best friend get so angry and upset before. It was rather unsettling if she were being completely honest.

"It's not your fault, I've always had issues. Quite a lot of them, actually." She plunked herself down beside Hirose with a heavy sigh. "But...I'm trying to work through them as best I can."

Hirose's face scrunched up as her sobbing became even worse. "You're so strong!"

She opened her mouth to deny it but then slowly closed it. She supposed she was strong in her own way. She was strong enough to come clean about her secrets, strong enough to admit she had a problem, strong enough to try and fix said problem. Even the admittance of that was a step forwards.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," She hesitated slightly. "But how did you find out?"

Hirose inhaled a short quick puff of air. "Well, at first I thought that Inoue-san and Amano-san had done something to you so I went and confronted them before volleyball-"

"What?" She was suddenly very alert, eyes wide and alarmed. "Confront in what way? Like 'let's have a chat' or like 'beat them up' confrontation?"

Hirose's face flushed a light pink. How she still managed to look so pretty in her state of disarray, Momoko could never even guess. The girl must have had magic powers. "Um, I just went over and asked if they'd done anything to you. They denied it and may have had a few choice words about you. I kinda lost my cool and ripped out one of Amano-san's hair extensions."

She sheepishly reached into the pocket of her blazer and extracted a tangled up chunk of fake blonde hair. It was incredibly difficult not to laugh.

"Anyways, Oikawa-senpai saw what was going on, dragged me off and told me everything...don't blame him, I didn't give him much of a choice!" Her heart missed a few beats at the mention of his name. "I was really worried and came over as soon as I could."

"T-thank you." Just as she'd been about to offer Hirose some food while they watched tv, more pounding came from the door. What was with people's obsession with trying to break down her front door? Was this some new trend she hadn't yet been informed of?

"Jesus, fuck, shit, asshole! I'm gonna kill a bitch!" Perhaps a bit of an overreaction but she quite liked their front door, painted a bright red to match the rose bushes outside, before her life went to shit.

She marched down the hall, footsteps heavy and carrying irritation with them. "What is up with everyone and-" She stopped mid sentence when she saw who is was staring back at her. The most beautiful and comforting eyes she'd ever seen.

"Hey there, stranger." In his hands he held a steaming cup of instant ramen and a loaf of milk bread. "Got some time to spare for a snack?"

All the embarrassment rushed back, punching her in the stomach and winding her. It was so hard to look him in the eyes with that strange soft look in them.

"I...um...actually have company over." Actually forming words was proving itself to be a struggle. All her previous confidence had been diminished, burnt to ashes.

The previously mentioned redhead popped her head under Momoko's arm. "Oh, hey there dude. I know you told me not to come because you wanted to do some big romantic gesture thing but I kinda did it anyways. Sorry."

Both brunettes' faces flushed bright scarlet like traffic lights. Momoko heard the words echo inside her head a few times before stubbornly telling herself that her best friend was just joking to lighten the awkwardness.

"Anyways," He fake-coughed into his hand in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment. "Would you mind if we talked?"

Her heart dropped down to her feet. "Sure, come on Sayori-"

"In private."

Shit. She still didn't regret one word she'd previously said but she would have preferred to lose the uncomfortable rejection speech and pity food.

"Okay." She tugged at the ends of her hair anxiously. "Sure. Perfect. Wonderful. Brilliant."

"Anymore adjectives you wanna put out there?"

"I'm good, thanks." The lack of a smart comment proved just how uncomfortable she was in her current situation.

The pair stared at each other, neither daring to utter a word, the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire. Time seemed to have slowed to a nauseating crawl, or perhaps had just stopped altogether. She wasn't sure whether she should try and talk first or just let him initiate it. Her head felt foggy and her back stiff but she wanted to get this over and done with as soon as humanly possible.

Both teens opened their mouths to speak at the exact same time but quickly shut them and urged the other to go first. Fuck it, she didn't really have much choice. The best idea was probably just to come out with whatever it was she wanted to say.

"Seriously." Momoko forced herself to stare at him imploringly, voice desperately trying to release any hope she had left. "Just say it, Asshole. Say that you don't love me and walk away. Dragging it out like this isn't as kind as you may think it to be."

This was torture.

"You couldn't be more wrong." He looked almost sad, shoulders sagged and a frown etched into his lips. "But first, food. Don't want it to go cold now, do you?"

She reluctantly obliged, taking the small styrofoam container from his grasp as well as the flimsy wooden chopsticks and began to eat. The food, by that point, was lukewarm but still tasted just as good as it would've hot. Probably just because she was so hungry.

"Before you say anything," He caught her gaze. "Just hear me out, okay?"

She nodded silently after a lengthy pause, there couldn't be much harm done in listening to him. 

"I've rehearsed this like fifty times in front of the mirror so I really hope I don't mess up." He failed miserably at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "This is in no way a rejection, over time you've actually become one of the most important people in my life."

She almost choked on her noodles. He was probably just trying to make her feel better, yeah, that was it. But she was in no need of his pity.

"In your letters, you spoke of yourself in such a way that..." He didn't seem sure of how to word it even though he claimed to have rehearsed his speech.

"Yeah, I hated myself." The brunette helped rather unhelpfully. "Past tense, don't worry about it."

"How can I not?" He didn't seem angry at her, just frustrated and a little bit sad. Still, she was taken aback by his tone and recoiled slightly. "How am I just supposed to just believe that you're okay after all you've been through?"

"By trusting me." Her voice was weak and quiet in comparison to his which had swelled up so that he was almost shouting. "When I say that I'm improving, I mean it. I'm not just trying to make you go away."

"You still don't get it, do you?" His hands were dragged roughly through his hair. "I care about you Momoko! Shit I may even love you! You can't just tell me to not worry when you've wound your way inside my head, consuming every thought, every emotion every second of my time! You're driving me insane! So...please, let me worry about you."

That was the first time he'd ever called her by her real name. No stupid nickname or teasing insult. Not even an honorific at the end. Just her name. Wait a second...did he say what she thought he'd said? She had appeared to have been so fixated on the use of her name, something so simple, that she'd forgotten that he said he might love her.

"You're not drunk are you?"

"No!" He looked like he wanted to go over to her and wring her neck.

"High?"

"For fucks sake!" He took two long strides towards her, eyes burning with tears. "Just put down your noodles and let me kiss you!"

"Oh my god, you're an evil lizard alien working for the government, aren't you?"

He kissed her and the world faded away so that it was just them, food left abandoned on the coffee table. It was slow and soft and comforting in a way that words could never truly capture. She was completely unprepared. Despite the amount of times she'd thought what it would be like to kiss him, she hadn't realised that his lips would be so warm. It was not like it was in movies or books, however, there was no fireworks or any magic, it was incredibly real. It was warm and it was salvation, she was more than happy with that.

Her glass heart remained intact and whole.

By the time they broke away, she could only utter a single word, leaving the poor boy dumbfounded.

"Clone?" 


	20. A Bad Boy Piece Of Information

Momoko had never dreamt of being in the position she had landed herself in. Together, the two teens had agreed that the best idea was for them to start dating in secret to see if it worked out. If it did, they would tell the rest of the team and if it didn't, then they would bury the secret and move on with their lives without making things awkward for them or their mutual friends.

Being in a relationship with Oikawa didn't differ much from how they normally were around each other besides perhaps the fact that her boyfriend constantly seemed to be fussing over her like a mother would their child, it was a bit annoying as she'd get really flustered which he'd just take as encouragement. Another possible problem was the amount of time the older boy spent at the volleyball club but it wasn't too bad since Momoko spent a lot of her time there too though now he didn't hesitate in asking her to stay back and toss for him for at least another hour.

It was the simple things that made it all worth it though. Holding hands when they walked home, him braiding her hair while they watched movies together, the fact that she finally felt like she was acting like her true self around him. In a way, she felt exposed now that her secret was out in the open but she also now had two people who understood. It was strange though, she'd always wanted this but it didn't feel that much more different than usual, almost as though they'd been dating the whole time, just not doing the intimate things most couples did.

Over the span of the next few weeks, Hirose seemed to become even nicer, which was a feat in itself but also a whole lot more annoying. As the only other person who knew about the couple, she took every opportunity to drop hints and to tease the pair about it with a shit-eating grin on her face the whole time. Oikawa lived for the attention and basked in the spotlight but Momoko could only feel embarrassed and self-conscious about it, as was her nature. Kyotani was also being strangely nice to her lately, he'd let her copy his maths homework twice in the span of a single week without calling her stupid like he normally would. Despite his softer attitude towards her, his hatred for Oikawa only worsened, there was at least two arguments every training session (which of course was left to either her or Iwaizumi to break up) and the dirty looks were bitchy enough to rival those of Amano and Inoue.

Thankfully, the oncoming Spring Tournament distracted from the new chemistry between her and the captain. Her knowledge on the sport had grown tremendously since Interhigh and could now successfully claim that she had more understanding of it than most normal people. The rotation system still boggled her mind however, she was doubtful that she would ever truly grasp that foreign concept. Or the whole thing about the setter only being allowed to set from certain positions. In her opinion, it was complete bullshit, it shouldn't have mattered whether they were a bit over the line or not.

Practice times increased as the event slowly crept closer and closer and she wondered if she should simply move into the gym, she spent so much time there. Usually her and Oikawa would stay late so he could fit in more practice and then go to the convenience store by their neighbourhood, Iwaizumi sometimes tagging along since he lived nearby, where they had their usuals and joked around as they always did.

However, she was also starting to worry about the third year. The manager could practically feel his stress as her own, it came off him in waves even though he tried to play it off as his usual childish and immature self. She didn't know whether she should say something or not, she didn't like seeing him like this but there was another part of her which told her that if she did indeed bring it up, he'd cast her aside like an unwanted, broken, old toy.

Eventually, Momoko managed to work up enough courage to try and bring it up after they'd finished watching _Aliens_ for the fifth time in his bedroom, a bowl of popcorn sitting between them. "I was just wondering...you do know that-I just want-I don't know, don't listen to me I don't know what I'm saying."

In humiliation she hid her face behind her jumper, pulling the fabric over her nose and mouth, wishing to disappear behind it. Why did she even bother to try? She was already bad at expressing her true emotions but add all her other feelings into the equation and she became a walking train-wreck.

"No, what is it?" He sat up straight which was quite difficult to do when seated on a beanbag, gaze soft. "Take your time."

She couldn't help but feel like she didn't deserve his patience or care but tried to tell herself that she did. The only way this could work was if she could get over her stupid self-hatred and was totally honest with him. She sucked up her anxiety and threw it out the back door.

"I'm just...I've been worried about you recently." She spoke slowly as though walking on a tightrope suspended between two skyscrapers, a large black pit of nothingness underneath her. "I'm scared that you're overworking yourself again and want you to know that if it's because of stress...you can always just tell me so I can help you. I want you to know that I completely support you and that you can...confide in me."

Momoko refused to look him in the eyes, fear flooding every sense once more, taking his silence as a bad sign. Had she just completely destroyed their entire relationship in a few sentences? Way to fucking go. Absolutely typical of her to be her own home-wrecker.

A laugh from her right side surprised her. "Goodness Momo-chan, you are so cute!" He ruffled her hair as she stared at him incredulously.

"To think you were worried about me!" He pulled her into a strangling bear hug, almost knocking over the bowl of popcorn. "I'm flattered!"

As she struggled in his grasp, his tone suddenly turned serious. "It's fine though, really. You know me, Momoko, I'm always like this before big tournaments."

She broke free from his grasp and stared at him, dark eyes wide and watery. "The night when you kissed me you said that I couldn't just stop you from worrying, the same thing applies to me. You told me to let you worry about you well then you need to let me do the same and if you refuse to acknowledge that then you're just being a fucking hypocrite!"

He laughed again which only managed to make her angry. Grabbing the half-finished bowl of popcorn she dumped it over his stupid perfect hair (and her in turn considering how close he held her) which caused his laughter to increase. People always seemed to think of laughter as something which came from one's mouth but when Oikawa laughed it was nothing like that. Instead it came from his eyes, the way his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. But in the same way it didn't come from his face but rather from within his soul. The very sound was enough to make her almost completely forget about her anger and frustration.

Suddenly, she too was laughing, at first like a small leak in a kitchen sink which soon escalated into a flood. The giggles spilled out of her mouth and onto the floor. Her sides ached and she felt as though she were about to collapse but found herself unable to stop. The pair clutched onto each other for support, now rolling on the ground as one often saw in children's cartoons.

"You two are totally dating."

Silence settled upon the room like a thick cold fog chasing away the sun. The two teens stared at Matsukawa and Hanamaki standing in the doorway, sly smiles adorning their faces.

"What are you guys doing here?" Oikawa sat up straight, completely bewildered.

"Your sister let us in, you invited us over last week to watch videos of old matches." Iwaizumi made his appearance, face still as blasé as ever. "Did you forget Shittykawa?"

The boy in question exchanged a nervous shrug with Momoko. "...Maybe."

"But we-we're not dating." The manager tried to deny, furiously waving her hands around. "No way would I be stupid enough to go out with this asshole."

"Hey." He looked a little bit like a kicked puppy which melted her heart a bit.

"We've all known for ages, I don't know why you two are trying to deny it." Hanamaki snickered. "Sayori-chan told us all the second she found out but most of us had already presumed as much. You two are horrible at keeping secrets."

Momoko's mouth dropped into a perfect 'o' shape. They had known the whole time? And it was Hirose who had spilled the beans? She felt kind of stupid for not having guessed that her best friend's big mouth would let something slip. Then again it was partly her own fault for being horrible at hiding her feelings for the boy. Had she really made it that obvious?

"Well..." a minuscule smile made its way onto her lips. "I think it works."

"I do too."

Hanamaki and Matsukawa pretended to vomit as Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Ew! Get a room!"

"Piss off."


	21. Spring High Shenanigans

Volleyball matches were so much more interesting when one could understand what was actually going on. Once again, Aoba Johsai had been exempted from the first preliminary rounds due to placing within the top four in Interhigh. Their matches were spread out over the course of two days with only one on the first which was set later in the day. Because of that they got to watch the other games from the comfort of the bleachers.

Momoko scrolled through the contents of her phone, sprawled over two seats, her legs resting in her best friend's lap. She was contently pretending not to listen to Hirose's ramblings about her favourite drama being cancelled mid-season. The cherry haired female was furious, claiming that ratings were only bad because the main leads didn't get together as her fellow manager hummed in agreement and nodded. It wasn't that she didn't care...she just wasn't interested.

So far that day, Ougiminami had beaten Tebaichim but had then lost their next match against Karasuno who had gone on to win another match against Kakugawa. Seijoh didn't have any matches to play until the afternoon which would most likely be against a team called Dewaichi before hopefully moving onto the Quarterfinal and Semifinal the following day.

The brunette was thankfully saved from Hirose's ramblings as her boyfriend and Iwaizumi returned from their trip to the bathroom, scowls painting their faces.

"You two okay?" She looked up with concern, Hirose pausing her angry ranting to see what was going on. "You look like you've seen Coach naked or something equally traumatic."

"Was it Ushijima?" Hirose wondered aloud.

She recognised the name but it took her a second to remember where from exactly. He was the captain of the team that beat Seijoh at Interhigh, a giant of a boy, face almost stuck in an apathetic state. She had pretty much guessed already that he had some beef with Oikawa but her suspicions were confirmed by Iwaizumi's grim nod and the increasingly poisonous glare of the usually light-hearted captain.

Momoko wasn't too sure how to go about comforting her boyfriend so she awkwardly reached across her seat and patted him on the head like an idiot. Even though her actions were pathetic and almost so bad that it was funny, his gaze softened as he looked at her and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"Gross." Iwaizumi pretended to gag at the sight. His face was scrunched up in disgust but she wasn't sure what he found more repulsive, Oikawa or Oikawa showing affection.

The childish setter's bad mood mood seemed to melt away as he launched into a Shakespeare-esque monologue about why he should be allowed to show public affection towards his girlfriend.

Momoko watched on, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, telling her she didn't deserve this, deserve him. He was too good for her. She almost slapped herself at the very idea she'd ever think that. No, fuck that feeling, she did deserve happiness, she deserved his love. Anyone, including herself, who said otherwise, could get bent.   
~~

She was not at all surprised when Seijoh won the match against Dewaichi but still left the Sendai Gymnasium with a light and bouncy energy. The team then returned back to the school to cram in a bit more practice before the next day. She was put to work photocopying the rotation strategy in the school office, chatting pleasantly with the receptionist about something mundane and boring before heading back to the volleyball courts.

When she opened the door, however, she was met with complete silence, everyone staring at the figure in front of her. Buzzed blonde hair with questionable chosen black stripes. She'd recognise that stupid hairstyle anywhere.

"Kyotani-kun!" She failed in concealing her smile. "You're back!"

He turned around to face her and almost, _almost_ gave her a grin. Sure, she saw him in class almost everyday, but volleyball practice wasn't nearly as fun without him there saying something rude or being difficult.

"Hey!" Yahaba surged forwards, fists clenched by his sides and voice red hot with anger. "Now that you've finally decided to show up, you should at least announce yourself!"

"Now, now, now." She breathed a sigh of relief as Oikawa stepped in, forgetting that he'd probably just make the situation worse. "Calm down, Yahaba."

"Oikawa-san..." The hostile air around the boy dropped for a split second, Momoko taking the opportunity to trot away, papers in her arms towards Hirose.

"It's been a while." Oikawa walked forwards, arms outstretched as though he was going in for a hug. Big mistake. "I've been waiting for you. Welcome back, Mad Dog-chan."

Kyotani continued to eat what appeared to be breaded chicken, silently but viciously, like a lion ripping open its prey. Quite an unnerving though but accurate.

"Kentaro-kun is back?" Hirose's head shot up from the clipboard where she'd been fervently scribbling down notes and not paying any attention to the situation at hand. "Our iconic second year trio has been reunited!"

"What trio are we taking about?" Momoko leaned in, lost and confused.

Her red haired friend sighed. "You, me and Kentaro-kun. Duh."

She didn't want to argue but she was almost certain that they were not a trio in any sense of the word. Yes, she liked to think they were friends with the boy after everything that had gone down at the start of the year but she wouldn't consider them a group.

"What the hell?" His voice broke them out of their mini-conversation. "There are still third years around? I thought all of you would have retired after losing in the Interhigh prelims."

She'd always known the boy to say things as he saw them but that was a low blow. She winced and she wasn't even the one the message was directed at.

"You're as funny as always, Mad Dog-chan." Oikawa shrugged off the statement.

"Please stop calling him that, Tooru." Momoko made her way back over. "Why don't you get changed and join practice, Kyotani-kun?"

"Ah, I'm so happy I got to play on the team while Oikawa-san was still there." She was tempted to turn around and smack him. It wasn't almost like he was deliberately trying to piss the second year off. "I'll make you feel that way."

Kyotani was taken aback by the words, inching away slowly. She didn't blame him, lightly smacking her boyfriend at his last words.

"Asshole."

"Forever and always, babe."

"Come on, Kyotani-kun." She dragged him off by his bag. "I'll give you a run down of the competition so far and our strategies. If you can catch onto them now you might get to play tomorrow."

She shot a look behind her which clearly told everyone to leave them alone, lest not to aggravate the boy anymore and cause further hassle for her.  
~~

Seijoh's first match on the second day was on Court B against a team called Dateko with the most amazing cheer she'd ever heard. It took almost all of her willpower not to join in with the chant. Overall, the so called 'Iron Wall' put up a really good fight but their new setter, who was apparently only a first year, lacked majorly in the skills required to play setter. He made up for it a bit with his unbreakable enthusiasm and height but ultimately it resulted in their loss. Still, their team was formidable, managing to annoy Oikawa quite a bit with their blocks. That was a feat in itself.

She almost felt a twinge of sorrow when she saw their tearful eyes but it was overruled by her immense pride for her friends. Their next match was to be against Karasuno. Even though they'd won the last time they'd played the fallen crows, she couldn't help but be worried. The team seemed different somehow, more experienced and more together as a unit.

Momoko felt slightly out of place as Hirose chatted almost feverishly with Karasuno's manager. However, it seemed as though they'd had another addition, a small blonde girl who looked absolutely terrified to be there. She emphasised with the young girl, she had been in the same place only a few months previously and it wasn't fun. Momoko watched in in horror as Yahaba decided to torment this poor girl, throwing his ball in the new manager's direction and began to run towards her, face morphing into the creepiest expression she'd ever seen displayed on human features.

"Excuse me, could you get that?" Oh no, he was going to scare the poor girl off, traumatising her for the rest of her days.

The brunette simply couldn't let that happen. She surged forwards and grabbed the ball where it was resting by the blonde's feet and threw it as hard as she could in his direction. She smiled in satisfaction as it hit him square in the crotch, knocking him to his knees, groaning in pain, her aim had gotten even better.

"No need to trouble her, Yahaba-san!" She smiled falsely at him. "Especially when you have me here to help you out all the time."

Momoko turned around to the small girl behind her who was quivering like a startled deer and shot her an embarrassed grin. "I'm so sorry about him, my whole team are a bunch of idiots."

The first year girl slowly turned her head up to look at her saviour. She couldn't help but think of how tall she was, like a giant, scary, Japanese doll. She couldn't force any words of gratitude out of her mouth she was so shocked. Before she could get out a single syllable, the older girl had patted her shoulder and ran off to break up the tug-of-war going on between Oikawa and Kageyama.

"You've really blossomed, Momo-chan." Hirose commented just before the match was about to start. "Look at you, off saving cute little first years and giving Yahaba what he deserves! I'm so proud of you!"

Momoko felt all her blood rush to her cheeks. She hadn't changed that much, had she? She was just...more comfortable around the team now. That was totally normal. It would actually be weird if she was still awkward around them after all that time.

She retreated back up to the stands as the match began, standing a few metres away from the group of frantic fangirls, man of whom were sending her suspicious glares. She wanted nothing more than to be able to do something to help out her friends but all she could do was cheer with the rest of the school, looking down helplessly at the court.

She was right in her assumption that something about Karasuno had changed, evolved somehow. Seijoh was having a harder time than before, keeping up with the drastically different playing style. They'd been caught off guard and that put them at a serious disadvantage. The first set was constant high energy and frantic, she was almost getting tired just watching it play out but in the end it went to Karasuno. Technically it was Kyotani's fault, literally pushing Kindaichi to the ground and stealing his toss only to hit the ball out of bounds.

The second set was more in Seijoh's favour, Karasuno not handling the new addition of Kyotani too well. He was a risk, a live bomb in the middle of the court and although he lost them more points than desired and caused a few injuries, teams had a hard time getting past his violent nature. He changed up their attack rhythm which was good for confusing their opponents. To her immense relief, they won the second set, 28-26 thanks to Oikawa's incredible serves after a bounce back from the fallen crows.

The third set, however, seemed to take hold of her heart and grind it into a fine powder. She felt so helpless, just watching their crushing defeat. The worst part was that she knew there was no way she could make it better. She couldn't just fix their pain, it was equivalent to trying to fix a flood with a band-aid. It had been so close but that just made it even worse.

"I'm...so proud...of you all." She stared at their faces, faces of disappointment and grief, trying to hold back her own tears as she choked out her words. "Shit, I think you might make me cry."

She did. The second she felt Oikawa's arms wrapped around her she began to sob like a child. That had been his last chance at Nationals. It was all over and his face was stoic, pain only showing through his eyes. It was almost embarrassing for her to be the one crying. Cursing again, she pulled away and wiped furiously at her eyes. "Fuck, now my mascara is running. You lot go ahead while I try and fix my face."

Once she was alone in the bathroom she stared at her reflection. Even though she was heartbroken, her eyes looked so much brighter, so much happier. Weird. Scrubbing off the black trails which had been left on her reddened cheeks with a piece of toilet roll, she came to realise that she really did care. It wasn't just a club to her anymore, it was a family, a place where she felt like she sorta belonged. As to why it took her so long to realise, she wasn't sure.

Momoko didn't leave the safety of the bathroom until there had been no sign that she'd been crying but when she did, she was met by Oikawa staring angrily at the giant she now knew as Ushijima. He tried to walk past but was stopped in his tracks as the other boy began to speak to him. It seemed once again she'd play spectator to one of his rivalries. 

"This is a warning, Oikawa." His voice came out low but held no identifiable emotion. "You chose the wrong path. Don't choose the wrong path again. "

She didn't have a clue what he was talking about but took offence anyways on Oikawa's behalf. What wrong path? They certainly weren't going hiking or anything and she couldn't recall him making any horribly detrimental life decisions.

"There was a place you could have realised your true potential." He continued. "Because of your worthless pride, you didn't choose it."

At that point all her sadness had melted away to be replaced by anger and annoyance. Sure, Oikawa did have an ego the size of a house but she wasn't about to stand there and listen to that overgrown lamppost talk trash about her boyfriend without getting furious.

"So you're trying to tell me that I should have gone to Shiratorizawa instead of Seijoh, right?" Oikawa shrugged. "No team is guaranteed victory."

"If nothing else, I can say that my team is the strongest one here." Arrogant prick.

Apparently she'd voiced that last thought aloud, drawing the boys' attention to her. Whoops, she hadn't exactly planned on what she'd say to insult him yet and she wasn't the best at improv but there was no harm in trying.

"Listen up," She took a few long strides forwards so that she stood between them. "Tooru may be an egotistical, annoying little child but he never chose the wrong path. He belongs with us at Aoba Johsai, there's no questioning that. You're right about his worthless pride but don't you ever forget it. Also your name means 'cow island' and that's just about the most stupid thing I've ever heard so you can fuck off!"

"Who are you exactly?"

Had he just completely undermined her inspirational speech in three words? Ugh, she hated him even more.

"Oh yeah," Oikawa spoke up, a minuscule grin gracing his face. "If you keep all your attention on me, you're going to get stabbed from the direction you least expect."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"My junior isn't smart and isn't even close to my level yet...but now that he's not by himself, he's strong." He turned around, grasping her hand in his own and began to drag her away. "When crows flock, they might even kill a huge, white eagle."

"Yeah, what he said!" She shouted over her shoulder. "Suck my dick you stupid, giant cow!"


	22. Pettiness

When it was first suggested to Momoko that she went to go see the Karasuno versus Shiratorizawa match, she wasn't too hasty about accepting. She enjoyed watching volleyball she supposed but having to sit through a whole match where her team wasn't even playing seemed almost pointless. Still, Oikawa's puppy dog eyes were pretty convincing and that was how she found herself seated next to him, trying her best not to yawn and instead appear enraptured. It didn't help that it was early in the morning and she'd stayed up all night on the phone to Hirose talking about whatever random things came to their minds, mainly conspiracy theories and Twitter drama. The one perk was getting to see her boyfriend in his stupid dorky glasses. 

The match between the two schools below was incredibly intense and helped to keep her eyes open. Both of them seemed to be pulling out all the stops, desperate to win. Personally, Momoko was rooting for Karasuno, they were just the kind of typical underdog team who inspired support and love from viewers that usually ended up winning in tv shows and movies and she had beef with Shiratorizawa's captain now.

The first set was the one which was most blurry in her mind due to her sleep-like state. She knew that it had been Shiratorizawa to take the set, however, 25-16. She was disappointed but not surprised. Judging by the way they'd trashed her own team, they'd likely do the same to the ever-evolving crows. In the last bit of the second set, just as she was beginning to lose hope, Karasuno turned the tables and won thanks to a block by the incredibly tall blonde middle blocker. Him and their libero managed to keep their defence solid and the match intense.

The third set was another disappointment, Shiratorizawa taking back the set they'd lost 25-18. At that point, Karasuno were out of chances, if they didn't win the next set, everything would be over for them. Of course she didn't care as much as she would had it been her own team but she would rather witness their success if not her own. About halfway through the fourth set which was so full of tension, she could practically feel it all the way from the back of the bleachers where her boyfriend had insisted they sit, they were joined by an all-too familiar face.

"Oh." A voice from behind them spoke up, startling the two teens. "You're here too. You said that you weren't going to come because it'd piss you off, no matter who won."

"Morning, Iwaizumi." Momoko greeted him as he plonked himself down beside her.

Oikawa seemed to regain his composure and scoffed. "No matter which side wins, I'll be able so see the other team's faces when they lose."

"You really are a piece of crap."

"I don't have time to sit around feeling sorry for myself." His tone turned serious.

"I see their number ten sure is moving around a lot, like always." He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"He's definitely some kind of monster." Oikawa replied. "However, it sure must be rough having to stick around that monster."

Momoko laughed dryly. "You say that like you're not a monster yourself, Tooru."

He tugged lightly on one of her braids and childishly pouted. "Shut up Momo-chan, I'm not a monster."

"Sure you're not, sweetie."

They watched on as the fourth set continued, the scores remaining pretty even until Karasuno broke the streak and managed to pull ahead by a few measly yet incredibly important points. She could tell that they were struggling, both sides actually, to keep up with each other. In the end, thankfully the crows took the set 29-27 and gave themselves another chance at winning the preliminaries. If they could take the fifth set they would move onto the national tournament in Tokyo. She couldn't help but feel a dull ache in her heart, wishing it was her team up there in that court.

The fifth set was inarguably the most tumultuous, playing with and teasing her nerves without relent. The pretty silver haired boy took over as setter as their number nine seemed exhausted and worn out as though someone had sucked him dry of all his energy. She didn't blame him, she was exhausted just watching from the stands. Unfortunately, disaster struck only a few points in, the skilled blocker who'd managed to stop so many spikes had to be sent to the infirmary as Ushijima's spikes had injured his hands so much.

"Jesus Christ." Momoko covered her mouth with the sleeve of her jumper in shock. "How hard is this dude hitting those balls? He must be like the John Cena of volleyball."

"Glasses leaving this late in the game is going to hurt a lot." Iwaizumi sighed.

She hugged her arms closer to her body. "He looks so sad, its like he knows that they're pretty much doomed without him."

"You can barely see him from back here though." Oikawa leaned forwards and squinted.

"Yeah but it's almost as though it's not just his hands bleeding but his soul too, he's finally gotten a passion for volleyball and now he's been taken out of commission when they need him the most." She bit her lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. "Or at least that's only what I think, I don't know the guy or anything."

They'd been correct in assuming Karasuno would suffer at the absence of their middle blocker and their defence broke down. Even the return of their star setter didn't help their chances much as they struggled to gain points against a giant red-haired boy and were unable to stop the monstrous spikes of Ushijima.

They had evidently began to give up and lose faith in their victory, as had Momoko but the return of their blonde middle blocker turned everything around. Thanks to their repaired defence, they managed to catch up and it soon became unclear as to which team would emerge as the victors and which as the losers.

The fifth set was taken 21-19 to the Flightless Crows who she supposed couldn't really be called 'Flightless' anymore though she still thought nicknaming high school volleyball teams after animals was kinda cringe. She was happy for them, if her team couldn't succeed she wanted theirs to instead.

"Dammit, why doesn't that bastard Ushiwaka look more upset!" She laughed at Oikawa's annoyance.

"I think it's just his face, babe."

Oikawa rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling her with him. "Come in, lets go home, I'd rather die than see the awards ceremony."

"You really are a crappy guy."

"We should really stay and congratulate them." Momoko stopped in her tracks before two hands were planted on her back to start pushing her out of the stadium. "Jesus, Tooru! You're so petty!"

"Get used to it." She was hauled out the doors. "Now where do you wanna eat?"

Momoko berated him until he gave in and let her drag him off to congratulate Karasuno on their win, pouting the whole way. They caught them outside the changing rooms where she wished them the best of luck in Nationals and encouraged them to do their prefecture proud. Then, with a good-natured smile she allowed Oikawa to coax her away with promises of takeout and a movie night, saying a final farewell to the Crows. "You could have at least said congratulations, Tooru, you look like a child."

"I'm not going to lower myself to their standard." He huffed with a scowl.

She shook her head as she sighed and held his hand slightly tighter than she normally would. "All this means is that you're gonna have to get on a National Team before any of them and flaunt the shit out of it."

"Well duh, that's already a given, it's only a question of which national uniform will best complement my complexion."

"Cool tones, no doubt about it...what about Argentina?"


	23. Mommy Issues

After Spring High it suddenly became painfully clear to Momoko that her boyfriend was leaving for college once the year was over. Beforehand it never felt real but as entrance exams came up, it was too real to possibly be ignored. She supposed she just had to come to terms with the fact that her final year in high school would be without Oikawa Tooru's presence and that there was a very real chance that he would forget about her. Even though it left an ache in her heart and a bad taste in her mouth she told herself that she was just overreacting and went on about her business.

At his request, as repayment for helping her pass her last exams, she was to help him study for entrance exams however she didn't think she was helping much. In a mere two hours of 'studying' they'd taken five snack breaks, spent fifteen minutes laughing over a picture of a fat cat and argued over what the best bad alien movie was. The most work they'd gotten done was decorating his notes for 'inspiration' and 'motivation'.

Eventually she forced him to sit down while she quizzed him with rapid-fire questions. She was surprised at his ability to know so many of the answers without even glancing at his flash cards. He didn't have an eidetic memory, did he? What was even the point of her helping him study if he didn't need the help in the first place?

"Hey Tooru." She glanced up from the list of questions. "Be honest, do you really need me here to help you? It's just because it seems like you've got this exam in the bag."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Caught red-handed, all I can say is that I'll take any excuse to hang out with my perfect girlfriend."

"You're really stupid for such a genius, y'know." She dropped the papers down onto her lap and rolled her dark eyes at him, the tiniest of smiles playing on her lips.

Dating Oikawa Tooru was the exact same as when she was just his friend except with a bit more affection and constant teasing from their friends. Still it somehow felt so much better to be in a romantic relationship with him. She no longer felt like she was holding her breath around him, hoping not to spill out all her secrets or to let him know her true identity.

"Well you're stupid for not realising that sooner." He poked her stomach through her shirt, knowing she was ticklish there and laughing as she recoiled and yelped.

"Suppose I am then." Momoko grabbed his hand as he went in for another jab. "Also pretty stupid for putting up with you all the time."

As they resumed their unneeded study session, a soft knock came from outside her bedroom door before it was swung open, revealing her father who had grocery bags in hand. His eyes, almost identical to his daughter's and just about the only thing appearance-wise which they shared, swept her bedroom. He looked at the candy wrappers with disdain and the open textbooks with confusion. Clearly he didn't remember half of what he'd learned in school and it may as well have been in an alien language for all he knew.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Nope." She sat up straighter and grinned at her father from her seat on the floor. "You need something?"

He held a hand to his heart as though deeply emotionally wounded by her words. "Can't I just talk to my most precious daughter for fun?"

"No really, what do you want?"

"Fine, I'm going out shopping." He shook the bags in his hands. "Don't answer the door if it's a stranger and don't leave the house unless y-"

"I know, unless I text you first." She finished impatiently, his little speech for whenever he left her home alone memorised. "Oh, and can you pick up more of that soda I like? I drank the last can this morning. We're also out of tinfoil."

"Sure, don't forget the rules and no hanky panky, I know what teens are like!"

"Shut up!"

Looking back on that moment, she wished she'd asked him to stay a bit later, or to asked to go with him. But she had done neither of them. Instead she'd stayed in her bedroom studying and disobeying one of the two simple rules she'd been given. Big, big mistake. Momoko wasn't perfect, far from it, she made countless mistakes but answering the door at half three that afternoon was one of her worst to date.

They'd just moved onto mathematics, foreign symbols which she knew were in her future already giving her a headache, when she heard the sound of the doorbell. Momoko had assumed it was her father back again, probably having forgotten his keys as he so often did and excused herself to go answer the door. As she passed through the hall she failed to notice the absence of keys that her father had actually remembered for once and swung open the door without a thought.

"Honestly Otousan, what would you do without-" Momoko's train of speech trailed off as her eyes met an all too familiar pair she hadn't seen in years other than in her reflection.

She'd always hated the fact that she was almost identical to her mother. From her dark pin-straight hair to her pale lips, it was almost like looking at her own dull future and that scared Momoko more than anything. She had never felt such a burning hatred for anyone before, almost feeling the pain from the night she'd stuck her hand into the fireplace all over again. Her first instinct was to shut the door in the woman's face but a foot was stuck out, stopping her from doing so.   
~~

_A much younger Momoko, no older than eleven awoke to the sound of yelling again. At first she'd been scared by the fighting, most of the time about money, but it had been an ongoing occurrence for the past year and no longer felt so shocking but she was still just as terrified._

_The small brunette peeked outside through her curtain to see that the sky was still an inky black, no stars, no moon, just never-ending darkness. Normally they didn't fight so early in the morning, leading her to wonder what it could possibly be about that time._

_Silently, she crept over to her bedroom door, cracking it open slightly so her dark eyes could look out. She could just see into her parents' room, the door left gaping open, two tall figures easily visible. Her mother's temper had always been like TNT, once there was a spark, there was little time to duck and cover and there was no chance of smothering the flame. Words spilled out of her mouth in a flood of pure rage in a similar way to the tears which came from her father's eyes._

_When they usually fought, Momoko would stay quiet in her room, listening silently the trade of insults and digs, sometimes letting a few tears escape. They never used their fists but their words packed punch, each syllable feeling like they were ripping her soul apart. This time however, she couldn't stay hidden in her room, as still as a cadaver._

_"You can't just walk out like this!" Their words became clearer as she inched her way closer. "Think of our daughter! How can I possibly support both of us on just my pay check?"_

_She heard her mother scoff loudly and stamp her foot down hard on the wooden floor. "Don't bring Momoko into this, it's always been about us! Just us! You're an idiot if you think we ever truly loved each other!"_

_She slid down the wall by their door, listening to them fight for what felt like hours. She kept her eyes trained on a spider in the corner, wishing they could swap lives, however silly it seemed. She couldn't bring herself to cry this time, seeing no need to waste tears on something which had never been. Her nails were digging into her palm as she clenched her fists harder, leaving small crescent-shaped indents on her skin._

_Suddenly she heard her mother screaming for her father to get out of her way before a loud thump came from their room. In those few seconds, her mother fled, dragging a suitcase behind her so violently that it scuffed their walls and knocked down framed pictures, not even sparing a glance behind her. Momoko watched the trail of long black hair disappear around the corner and then heard the slamming of the front door that rattled the whole house._

_For two whole weeks, she'd waited, waited for the door to open again, waited for an apology, for things to go back to normal. Things never went back to normal. There was no apology, not even a note. Her mother never came back._

_In the years that followed, Momoko had truly understood what had happened between her parents. They'd married because of a mistake, because of her, so it was inevitable something would happen eventually, one of them would walk, but she still felt betrayed. Upon that realisation, she'd quickly come to hate her mother, for never truly loving her, for seeing her as a burden, and consequently, came to hate her own reflection._  
~~

"What do you want?" Her voice was cold and sharp as a cold winter gale, her tight grip on the door having turned her knuckles white.

"To talk." 


	24. Mega Mega Fucking Fuming

Reluctantly Momoko allowed her mother to enter the house but didn't offer her tea like she normally did when visitors came. The pair stared at each other from opposite armchairs while poor Oikawa watched on silently from the doorway, not having a single clue as to how he should act in such a situation. He'd briefly asked his girlfriend if she wanted him to leave to which she'd responded with the most terrified look he'd ever seen in her eyes, face ashen. So he stayed, however awkward he felt, especialy considering the weird looks her mother continuously threw his way.

"You wanted to talk." The young girl's voice was cold and sharp, still angry from all the years of abandonment. "So start talking before I change my mind."

Her mother sighed, holding her handbag close to her chest, looking terribly out of place in her old house. "I don't regret leaving your father, it was what was best for both of us, but I do regret leaving you, Mo-"

"Don't call me by my first name!" She exploded, immediately rising to her feet, fists so tight that her nails left small crescent-shaped marks on her palms and eyes blazing. "It's 'Imada' to you."

Her chest felt hot, as if her rage was trying to burst from her ribcage, and her breaths were so laboured she could've given an asthmatic a run for their money. Anger tasted bitter, it made her lips curl and her eyes water yet also surprisingly satisfying, like black coffee, it invited her to take another sip. Words balanced precariously on the tip of her tongue, she wanted to argue that the decision to leave had benefited only her mother, to scream about all the hardships she'd henceforth caused them, to watch pain fill her eyes and guilt bow her head but she couldn't manage anything more than a few broken syllables of nonsense, the emotion choking her. 

"Fine," the woman relented with a shaky breath. "I regret leaving you...Imada, my beautiful daughter. I thought about coming back, many times, it kept me awake at night, thinking of you and what I'd left behind, but I was drowning in misery here, I wasn't ready to be a mother back then, I am now."

Momoko rolled her eyes, wishing she'd never let her in the house or given her any thought at all, she didn't deserve it after all she'd put her through. She knew that she'd been the consequence of a drunken mistake by college kids but that was no excuse for her being treated with any less love than a planned child. Her father had always told her that she was the best mistake he'd ever made, a smile on his lips while he ruffled her hair fondly, while her mother had always looked at her with eyes full of contempt and disappointment.

"Cut the crap." She was starting to choke up but didn't want to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing that she cared enough to cry so she tried to keep her tone even as she carefully lowered herself back down onto the chair. "You never loved me, you never will, so why are you here?"

A terrible silence permeated the room and as it dragged on, Momoko felt as if she were swelling with boiling hot water and they were all just waiting for her to burst.

"My fiancé," Momoko flinched at the word as it cut through the room. "Richard, wanted our kids to meet their sister."

"Half-sister."

"But sister nonetheless."

The second year refused to look her mother in the eyes, focusing all her attention on the empty fireplace which had been the reason for her now scarred hand, balling it into a tight fist. "Quite frankly, I don't give a shit about you or your stupid perfect life with your stupid fucking _Richard_ and your stupid fucking kids. To me you are nothing but a bad, faded memory and it could've stayed that way if you hadn't sent me that postcard, trying to reinsert yourself into our lives. Big mistake that was."

"My life is not perfect!" Her voice trembled as though Momoko had highly insulted her by implying she had a better life than the family she left behind with no money or support of any kind.

"Running off to Canada with your boyfriend sounds like a walk in the park compared to the hell we endured after you left."

"Do not speak to me in that tone young lady!"

Outraged, Momoko stood up with such vigor the she sent the lamp beside her flying, face red from her seething anger. "I will speak to you however the fuck I want! Don't start acting like you care all of a sudden, if you did you'd pay your child support or at least remember my birthday! You probably only came so Otousan could sign the divorce papers!"

Her mother looked like a child which had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, guilty as charged. She'd hit the mark with her guess. The spontaneous visit had never been because she'd wanted to reconcile with her daughter or reunite their family but to marry her long-term fiancé and even further sever the ties between her and the other two Imadas. She couldn't say she was surprised. 

"I remember your birthday!" She eventually managed voice straining to an impossibly high pitch.

"When is it then?" She locked eyes with her, one pair glinting dangerously, the other pair wide with panic. "When is my birthday? This shouldn't be too hard a question considering you were there."

Her mother inhaled sharply and shifted her gaze to the floor. She should've guessed. She never got birthday cards, one Christmas card the first one without her mother but that was it. Apart from that she'd had no contact with her whatsoever. 

"He'll sign those divorce papers alright, he'll be glad to get rid of you, but he's gone shopping now and won't be back for a while and I'm not letting you stay in here otherwise I'll lose my temper again. You can wait on the porch." Her voice quietened to a bitter, yet not quite disappointed, whisper.

"I'm your mother!"

"You're a stranger." Momoko turned her back to the woman, not wanting to look at the face so identical to her own. "I'm not gonna say it again...get out."

The silence in the room made her blood as cold as a winter gale creeping through an open window. The lack of noise was equivalent to poison, for in that void of sound the impact of the previous argument was laid bare. It was as though the silence was hanging, like the suspended moment before a glass shatters on the ground.

As she inhaled, emotions swallowing all her rationality in a single gulp, the glass began to fall towards a hard floor.

"I said get out!"

Her voice was a shrill and terrible scream as the glass shattered into a million shards along with any previous connection she'd ever had with her mother, if there ever really was any.

Panting in shock at herself, she didn't even hear the woman leave the room or her heavy footsteps as she hastily made her way to the door and closed it behind her with a deafening slam, rattling the whole house in the process. Once the anger slowly began to subside, recoiling from her, all Momoko could do was sigh, feeling light and numb and overwhelmingly tired. 

"Well that was intense." Her head snapped towards Oikawa who gazed at her with big eyes swimming in concern. "You okay?"

"Never better." A small smile spread across her lips like a ray of sunlight through dark rain clouds. "Sorry you had to see that...thank you, I don't think I could've done that if I was alone with her."

He took two long strides forwards before sweeping her up in a giant, suffocating hug as though to tell her that even if her mother never cared, he always would. "Nah, you would've, you're more of a badass than you'd think. I'm not gonna lie though, I was close to kicking her out myself. I'm pretty proud that you didn't even throw a lamp at her head."

"I was seriously considering it." She chuckled lightly, a stark contrast to the banshee screams which had previously left her lips. "But being angry is really tiring and now I just kinda wanna take a nap, like a _really_ long nap. Also she might have tried to sue me and I can't afford that type of shit."

"That's understandable." Clearly, he still wasn't too sure how to behave after the spectacle he'd just witness but Momoko couldn't blame him. She didn't think there was many people who had such a relationship (or rather lack of) with one of their parents in their quiet peaceful suburb, the most drama the neighbourhood got was the grannies passive aggressively spreading rumours about each other, she was sure they'd take one look at her twin on the porch and have a field day of gossip.

"You know," he spoke up after a few seconds of suspended silence. "A few months ago you never would've had the guts to do any of that."

"What do you mean?" She looked up at him through her dark lashes. "I fought Amano and Inoue a few months ago no bother."

"But you did that for someone else, this was for yourself." He stared at the stray freckle on her cheek as he voiced his thoughts carefully. "It's really nice to see you put yourself first for once. You've come further than you think."

When she stopped to think about it she supposed he was right. Beforehand she would have immediately burst into tears at the return of her mother but now she had friends, a proper family, even a boyfriend and she knew that she no longer needed that woman. For once, she'd reached a time in her life where she was happy with her life and who she was. There was no desperate want for anything more, escapism seemed pointless now that she was actually, truly happy. It was almost surreal, realising how much she'd changed in the span of a few short months, it was practically a miracle.

"You know Tooru, you're right. I always used to think that I wasn't worth her time but now I guess I realise that she's not worth mine...thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me that confidence." 


	25. One Door Closed

It seemed as though the next few weeks flew by in a strange blur and it felt to Momoko as though it was just yesterday that she had written her first letter. Honestly the whole year had really gone by faster than any previous and had also been the best of her life.

It was hard to think that her next year would probably be significantly worse considering all her third year friends would be moving on to university, her boyfriend included. Still she was able to paint a smile on her face when he got into the school he wanted and had already started making plans for the next ten years. Underneath her hidden sorrow however bloomed a new motive, a purpose. Literature was just about the only thing she'd ever truly possessed both a talent and a passion for and she supposed she couldn't really go wrong if she did what made her happy. The only problem with this: her grades, not nearly good enough to get her a place in any decent university. Hence, Momoko firmly decided that she was not about to let her laziness get in the way of her happiness and accepted the workload she'd have to take on the following year. She supposed her new drive doubled as a coping mechanism, hoping that she could use it to drive out any negative thoughts which threatened to resurface, work was good for at least keeping worries at bay.

Graduation was a painful day, dismal weather pretty accurately representing her mood with the black-speckled clouds and the weird buzz in the air that indicated rain. The previous year she'd faked illness on Graduation Day so she could stay home and watch tv instead of standing several hours in the school hall, fighting back yawns, but this year, she went considering she knew quite a few people leaving.

Hirose didn't help Momoko in keeping her composure, failing miserably at hiding her tears. How her mascara didn't run however, was a mystery. Most other third years were also crying but she didn't see Oikawa shed a single tear. In fact, he looked perfectly content, unshakeable but when she caught his eyes she realised that he was masking his hurt as per usual. He looked like a scared little boy who'd lost his mother in the supermarket, all his previous excitement gone.

Her eyes flooded with concern as Hirose continued to sniffle quietly into her friend's school blazer. She absentmindedly rubbed comforting circles on the still crying girl's back. The pair of girls had earned themselves a few questioning gazes especially with the seemingly constantly angry Kyotani seated next to them, very obviously uncomfortable with all the open displays of emotion around him. She had to give him props, despite it clearly not being his area of expertise, he'd hesitantly patted Hirose's back but stopped when it only made her cry harder, spending several minutes afterwards staring angrily at his right hand.

One by one the third years filed onto a slightly raised platform where the principal handed them a rolled up piece of paper and shook their hand. The middle aged woman who was dressed as she normally was in an ugly pantsuit gave an overly-winded speech about the values the third year students had learned during their time at Aoba Johsai High School while the majority of the audience zoned out, eyes misty and glazed over.

Momoko busied herself with wiping Hirose's damp cheeks once she'd finally ceased with the tears. Her actions proved futile as the year head made his own speech and the red headed girl burst into more sobs and buried her head in her hands.

"Are you really just going to stare instead of helping me?" The brunette whisper-yelled at Kyotani who nodded in response, pulling out a curry bun from his bag (it seemed he kept an endless stock) and eating as he watched on. "You're the worst."

"I know."

"Okay, come on Sayori." She hoisted the girl to her feet and began to drag her out of the hall with great difficulty and effort, few eyes following since they'd been seated towards the back of the hall. "Lets go get you cleaned up...I should get paid for this."

Once they'd reached the safety of the bathroom and soft mellow music had been put on Momoko's phone, Hirose began to calm down once again. The brunette sat atop one of the sinks, swinging her legs as she hummed along with the music, porcelain cool against her bare legs since her socks had slipped down long before. Fluorescent light flickered above them as Hirose joined her friend on the sinks, cheeks as red as her hair.

"Are you sure this is stable?" She hiccuped lightly.

"It probably isn't but I don't feel like moving right now." The brunette tipped her head back so she could stare at the ceiling instead of the graffitied walls. "It was so stuffy in there, thanks for giving me a reason to escape."

"Thanks but I must've looked a right mess."

"Not at all." Jealousy lingered in the back of her throat. "You still look as perfect as always, I'm beginning to think you're a magical girl."

A laugh sounded from her right. "I wish but it's just waterproof mascara. The amount of times it's saved my life is the true magic."

The pair fell into a comfortable lull of silence for a while as songs changed to something more upbeat.

"You know," Momoko voiced her thoughts slowly and carefully, not sure if she was just being weird or not. "In a way it feels like something is ending. Like we're closing the door on this part of our lives forever. Like I'm going to see everyone next year but it feels like I'm saying goodbye forever. Never mind, I'm just being stupid, forget I ever said anything."

She sighed heavily, regretting ever saying any of her concerns aloud. Her fears were totally irrational and she was just being overdramatic as per usual.

"No...I kinda get it." Her heart leaped. "I suppose I feel similarly but I'm not sure how to express it in any way other than crying like a child."

"Thank god, I thought I was going insane."

The door opened, startling both teenage girls as they almost fell off the sinks. Kyotani stared at them from the open doorway, eyebrows (or rather lack of) furrowed.

"What are you doing here?" Hirose giggled behind her hand. "This is the girls' bathroom!"

"I felt stupid without you two there so I went to look for you." His voice was gruff but underneath it he almost sounded embarrassed. "You can't leave me alone like that,"

"Come join us then!" Momoko gestured towards one of the sinks. "The ceremony won't end for ages and I can't sit through another boring speech."

What had started as a bad therapy group quickly turned into a karaoke session. Surprisingly no teachers burst in due to the sheer amount of noise they were making. Momoko's taste in music varied from cutesy pop songs to slow American songs from the seventies. The sound flowed through her veins and swirled around in her head. It cranked up her joy level to a hundred, hijacking her brain. Somehow it had transformed the cramped, dimly lighted and extremely graffitied bathroom into an expensive karaoke bar.

As Hirose and Momoko poured out their souls, Kyotani glared straight ahead of him, clearly not wanting to taunt his 'image' or whatever despite that it was only the three of them in the bathroom.

"Spoilsport!" The red haired female yelled at him over the noise, pushing herself off her porcelain perch so she could dance around the small space. The taller of the two girls laughed and dragged the boy to his feet, forcing him to twirl with her. For a split second she could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile across his usually sour face but the single light above them gave one last feeble flicker before completely extinguishing itself.

Momoko fumbled around in the dark until she found her phone which was still blasting music from its speakers and switched on the torch function. The first thing she saw caused her to let out a screech of terror, Hirose's beautiful face made haunting in the new light source. Dissolving into another fit of giggles, she clutched her stomach and stumbled towards the door.

Once out the trio made their way back towards the school hall, recomposing themselves as best they could on their walk yet it had been unneeded, the hall was void of any signs of life.

"Where is everyone?"

Hirose checked her watch and choked back a bark of laughter. "It's five, they'll all have gone home!"

"Shit."   
~~

Thankfully there were a few stragglers outside, her boyfriend included, at least possessing the decency to wait for her. He was surrounded by a small group of girls but that served nothing in deterring her. Tackling him from behind she launched into a flurry of apologies, very badly explaining her situation while not even giving him a chance to breathe.

"Woah, calm down." He put both hands on her shoulders. "You were doing karaoke in the girls' bathroom and lost track of time?"

"Yes." She replied breathlessly. "It's not as weird as it sounds, I promise."

He laughed at her and messed up her hair, bangs sticking out in all different directions. "Not gonna lie, kinda disappointed I didn't get an invite."

She scowled at him. "Don't be clingy, we're doing a movie marathon tonight, remember?"

She'd forgotten about the girls Oikawa had been talking to until one of them cleared her throat. "Hello, Imada-senpai."

Momoko was taken aback, she didn't think she'd ever been referred to as someone's senior before, most of the first years steered well clear of her, her height and resting bitch face apparently making her rather intimidating. And why were they being so respectful towards her?

"Um...hi?"

"We just wanted to say," another one took her by the arm and led her a short way's away from her boyfriend so that he couldn't hear. "We totally support your relationship with Oikawa-senpai, he was just telling us about you and we don't want you to think we're some crazy fangirls or anything. You make him happy and that's all we want for him."

A different girl who she vaguely recognised from a few volleyball matches took her hands up in her own. "We all think that you're super sweet but if you hurt him we won't hesitate to destroy you."

The brunette gulped, feeling a strange mix of threatened and confused. "...Okay."

"Perfect, see you later." The group of girls skipped off with waves of farewell and movie suggestions, leaving her dumbstruck.

"What the flying fuck was that?"

"Everything okay?" Oikawa appeared behind her, startling her.

"Uh yeah, what do you wanna start with Star Wars or Harry Potter?" She smiled up at him as they began on their journey back to his house.

As she walked back, hand intertwined with Oikawa's, she came to realise that perhaps that day did signify the end of a chapter in her life but it had in turn opened millions of other opportunities and possibilities for her happiness. Why assume that just cause she was happy there, didn't mean she couldn't be somewhere else too.


	26. One Door Opened

Although Momoko had vowed that she would be studious in her third and final year of high school she found herself instead dedicating a lot of time to an online blog she'd started that summer where she recorded details of her life and random short stories and poems. Originally she'd created it upon request from her boyfriend and didn't for a second believe anybody else would take interest however within the span of three months she'd become something of an online celebrity. Over time she found it had come to replace the letters she would once write to her crush.

Another, she supposed, important part to her third year life was the search for a new volleyball manager. Both Momoko and Hirose would be leaving that year and without them they knew that they might as well throw the boys on a deserted island with no supplies and leave them to die. Or to put it simply, without the girls, the team was helpless. At first, Momoko had thought it was a pointless job, just refilling water bottles and cleaning up but they also had to help arrange travel, order jerseys and new equipment, keep stock of everything in the storage cupboard and make an obscene amount of copies. 

Had it been the previous year the task would have been simple as any girl with a crush on the old captain would have happily adopted the position. But as Oikawa had left the school and started attending university nobody seemed to want the position, especially considering the open manager role for the boy's soccer team in which there was a particularly attractive second year.

Amid their futile search, Momoko spent her eighteenth birthday with other people for the first time since she was ten. The whole volleyball team, including the third years from last year, had taken the train to a small beach which was close to being completely deserted. They'd spent the entire day there and camped out during the night, creating a bonfire and also some of the teen's best memories.

Yet another gift the brunette's new 'fame' had brought her came in the form of a small timid first year girl in the November of that year. She claimed to be an avid fan of Momoko's blog and wished to be her so-called 'protege'. The older girl agreed on the terms that the first year also replace her and Hirose as managers. And hence their biggest obstacle besides entrance exams was conquered and they could finally breathe a bit. Training the first year, however, proved to be a bit of a challenge, she was unbelievably clumsy (shoujo protagonist levels) and couldn't speak more than two words to any of the boys without tearing up, she wouldn't even go near Kyotani.

When December reared its ugly head, Momoko finally began to start worrying about her grades. She knew that she had to get into a good school and unless she began to slave away in class she knew that that would never become her reality. Due to this she took up extra classes and spent most of her free time in the public library, studying with her boyfriend for motivation. The difference this made to her grades only became noticeable towards the end of January, many of her teachers suspecting that she'd gone mad, so used to the air-headed daydreamer who would spend classes staring out the window, doodling all over her hands or just plain sleeping.

Another improvement which had come around that year was her father's health. No longer working like a slave the sickly pallor of his skin reverted to the more tanned tones from her childhood and the dark circles which had been present for the previous six years had finally gone. Probably feeling guilty over the debacle she'd had with Momoko, her mother began sending large sums of money to them every month. From there, their financial problems seemed to ease slowly until they became comfortable and no longer spending all their time stressing over bills and taxes.

As entrance exams began to approach, Momoko found herself becoming more and more nervous. It was like a clammy pale hand was slowly clasping around her neck and choking her. She chose not to voice her worries, adamant that they would go away so long as she didn't give them any sort of acknowledgement. She'd been proven horrifically incorrect the night before the exam as the hand had completely suffocated her.

"Fuck." She whispered quietly to herself, still unable to sleep at one in the morning, knowing full well that she had to be up at eight. "I'm getting food."

She did her best searching for her glasses in the dark, seeing no point in putting on her contacts and began to tread quietly through her house. She held her breath as she made her way past her father's open bedroom door and crept down the stairs, praying that the old floorboards wouldn't creak under her weight. The brunette had successfully reached the front door without waking up her father and hastily pulled on a pair of shoes. Escaping her house took what felt like years, inching the door shut behind her so as not to alert anyone to her change of location, but finally she was out in the street, wind cool against her skin.

Momoko found herself outside the convenience store she always seemed to come back to, time and time again. It was open twenty-four seven which meant she could pay a visit no matter the time instant noodles struck her fancy. She sat in her usual seat outside, enjoying the feeling of the cold night air against her cheeks and scrolled through the contents of her phone as she ate.

Roughly halfway through her meal, her phone pinged with a message from her boyfriend.

_Dumbass:_   
_Hey r u awake ??_

_Bitch:_   
_If I wasn't you wouldn't be able to see_   
_that I was online._

_Dumbass:_   
_Ur use of correct grammer over txt pisses_   
_me off_

_Bitch:_   
_*grammar._   
_Also just you in general piss me off._

_Dumbass:_   
_Why r u up_

_Bitch:_   
_I'm getting food in the hopes of calming_   
_myself down. Absolutely shitted about_   
_tomorrow._

_Dumbass:_   
_Shut up u will b fine babe if u dont get in_   
_imma sue._

_Bitch:_   
_Thanks but that doesn't really make_   
_me feel any better._

_Dumbass:_   
_R u at the store rn?_

_Bitch:_   
_Yeah. Why?_

She got no reply except for a picture displaying her boyfriend's beautiful double chin and face mask. Just as she was finishing up, writing off his weirdness as Oikawa being Oikawa, his pyjama-clad figure rounded the corner.

"You absolute idiot!" She got to her feet and jogged towards him. "You did not run all the way from your dorm in slippers and a face mask just to see me!"

He sounded extremely winded, as though someone had punched him hard in his stomach but his goofy grin was as wide as ever. Upon starting at university he'd moved from his house to a dorm on campus. It wasn't that much further away but it was at least twenty minutes on foot.

"I'm not here _just_ to see you." He guided her back towards the table. "I'm here to talk some fucking sense into you."

"Excuse me?"

"I love you but shut up for one second and listen to me." He held up a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. "You are unbelievably talented and intelligent, babe, and any school would be seriously lucky to have you. I know you wanna get into the same uni as me but it's not the end of the world if you don't. We can make it work."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You couldn't have said all that to me over the phone?"

"This is so much more romantic though."

"I hate you...but you're right I suppose." She sighed and rubbed at her eyes, exhaustion finally hitting her like a tonne of bricks. "It's not the end of the world and I'm a fucking treasure, they should be the ones asking for _me_."

"Yeah! That's my girl!" He leaned over to ruffled her dark hair. "And...could you call me a taxi or something? I don't feel like walking back."

"You're so sad."  
~~

As soon as she'd finished her exams, Momoko made a point of refusing to talk about them until she got her results back. It would be torturous if she spent all her time stressing over it so it was far better to simply not think about it at all. She supposed it was fairly okay for the most part but some questions made her want to rip out all her hair and scream and she'd always had a tendency to overthink everything and change answers several times.

Her father appeared to be incredibly worried about her entrance exams however, in stark contrast to his daughter. He was first up every morning, checking the mailbox three times a day like a lunatic, as though her results would just magically appear out of nowhere. Momoko was getting so fed up with his concern to the point where she refused to make dinner if he even mentioned it around her. Hirose too had been very annoying about entrance exams, she called every morning to ask if Momoko's results had come yet and would always try to wrangle conversations back around to the topic. Kyotani, thank god, didn't broach the subject, though it was rare he even responded to her texts with more than one-word answers so she hadn't exactly expected him to be pestering her about it in the first place

The actual arrival of her results was brought to her attention thanks to Hirose. She'd been awoken by a text from her best friend, delighted that she'd gotten into her desired school and pestering Momoko about whether or not her mail had come yet. The young brunette leaped out of bed, not even bothering with her glasses and ran outside barefoot. She'd been masking and bottling up her nerves for weeks but she could no longer hold in her need to know.

Momoko pulled out a small bundle of letters and rifled through them at lightening speed, scanning for her name. There it was. Dropping the other letters she ripped open the one addressed to her. Her eyes skimmed the page until they found the sentence ' _Congratulations on being accepted into-_ '. A scream of pure ecstasy was released from her mouth before she had even finished reading the sentence, already dialling Hirose's number to share the good news

She'd done it. All the hard work she'd put in that year had paid off. It finally felt as though she could see her future clearly, it was now staring her directly in her eyes, waiting for her to make her next move. Her life had only just begun.


	27. The Final Letter

The old man hobbled over to the large cardboard box he kept in the corner of his room, easing himself into a chair and pulling it onto his lap. Envelopes upon envelopes were revealed upon the opening of the lid. Some were worn and old, others newer and crisp. Eyes straining through spectacles he glanced at the letter in his hand one last time.

_Dear_ _est_ _Tooru,_   
_The first time I wrote to you I never in all my years would have guessed that you would love me back, marry me and create a family. I truly believed that I was inferior, worthless and a 'nobody' as my seventeen-year old self had once put it._

_This letter, however, I know is my final one to you. I'm dying and that's okay. It's natural, people die every day. I can't tell you not to be sad because it's stupid and pointless and you know well that I do not put up with bullshit. I lived a full life and you know that, however cheesy that sounds. I was an accomplished novelist, a happy mother of three and an even happier grandmother to five. I suppose I was also an amazing wife considering I had to put up with such a mediocre husband. I'm kidding, you were a horrible husband. Once again, joking. What can I say? Even on my deathbed I'm funny_ _as hell._

_In all seriousness, I love you and always will. But you know that, don't you? Smug idiot, I know you're grinning to yourself right now. Thank you for putting up with me in my worst moments, from breaking down on the side of the street, to shoving my hand inside of a fireplace to spending all our holiday savings on a fancy vintage typewriter which broke two weeks later. Thank you for giving me the lights of my life, Shouta, Kotori and Shiori who you are not ever allowed to show these letters to. Thank you for being there for me when my mother came to visit, when my best friend was diagnosed with breast cancer and when my heart started to give out._

_You, Oikawa Tooru, mean more to me than all the stars and planets in the sky. And although I endlessly denied it, I love you more than 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' which is saying a lot because that's a really good movie. Like really good._

_You understand me more than I understand myself which I suppose is kinda embarrassing now that I think about it. Throughout all these decades I've been stuck with you, the hundreds of fights we've had, the many Valentines Days you've forgotten, I've realised that love is not perfect. Love is not the way I write about it in my books, it is something which cannot be helped, something which can happen between anyone at any given time. It is not one magical fairy-tale but if it was I would certainly hate it. People fight, they won't always get along, see eye-to-eye, it's human nature. Love is not about constant happiness with a flawless person, it's more of a rollercoaster where you acknowledge your significant other's flaws and learn to accept them._

_For someone who always went on and on about hating sentimental shit, I sure am sounding very melodramatic. I'm no longer seventeen but under my wrinkles and grey hair I'm still the same teenager, perhaps with a bit more self-esteem and worldly knowledge. And you are still the same Tooru I've always known, even if I sometimes wish you'd grow up a bit._

_Once I'm dead I want you to continue life as normal or else I'll crawl up from hell and smack you upside the head for being an idiot. In the meantime, I'll be waiting for you. If wherever I'm going has an open bar you'll undoubtedly find me there. Can dead people get drunk? Only one way to find out I suppose._

_Just so you know, I'm not scared. When I was younger I was scared of so many things. I was afraid of change, rejection, bugs and bad plastic surgery. But death does not scare me. I'm excited. It's kinda like I'm going on an adventure and even if I would prefer to go with you, buying food for one person is so much cheaper. I'm not gonna worry too much, anyways, I'll be seeing you soon but not too soon, I hope._   
_Your_ _(incredibly)_ _Beautiful Wife,_   
_Oikawa Momoko._

He reached his hand inside the envelope, pulling out an old picture, frayed at the edges, depicting his high school volleyball team. He brushed his thumb over over Momoko's soft smile. Although the camera had not caught it, her eyes had always lit up when she smiled and her nose crinkled slightly. He missed her smile, the sound of her voice and her almost-but-not-quite-edible cooking.

"Otousan," A woman appeared in the doorway, ten year old holding onto her wrist. For a second he could have sworn that her dark hair was that belonging to his dear late wife. "It's time to go to the funeral. Shouta and Shiori are meeting us there. You okay?"

"Better than ever." He slotted the letter and photograph back into the envelope, laying it in the box. He placed it back on the floor, smiling nostalgically to himself. He didn't want to see her in the coffin. Pale and so devoid of life. In all the time he'd known and loved her, she was always bursting at the seams with life and emotions, seeing her without those was surreal and nightmarish.

There was no chance he could convince himself that that limp, lifeless body was that of a girl once called Imada Momoko, a girl who'd laughed and cried, suffered and hurt. He wanted to go with her, the world seemed so much greyer without her inappropriate jokes and cheeky grin. It was a world he didn't want to live in.

Had she been in attendance to her own funeral, she would have hated it. She had never been able to stand people crying and being sentimental which was ironic considering how emotional she always was. He could picture her beside him, rolling her eyes at speeches and yawning, wanting to ditch the place and go get food. It was almost as though he could hear her voice whispering in his ear about how uncomfortable the clothes were and how it was way too early in the morning for people to be so sad over something so normal.

The worst part of it all was the fragile whispers, asking him if he was okay, as though he were made out of glass and would shatter at one wrong word. He found himself unable to answer anyone, eyes, aged but still the same earthy brown, fixated on the coffin. Her eyes were closed so she looked as though she was just sleeping. But she wasn't, she had left the earth and life would carry on without her.

He didn't want to give a speech. Momoko knew everything he'd wanted to tell her even if he'd never voiced it. He also knew that even if he tried he'd never be able to get the words out. Still, each of his children gave speeches, each one bringing him to tears at the recounting of old tales.

He could practically hear Momoko beside him complaining about how long it was taking and when they'd be getting food because she was starving and all she had for breakfast was two bowls of rice and a smoothie. A part of him wondered if he was going insane. He wouldn't put it past himself, he didn't know how to function without his wife there. He didn't _want_ to function without her there.

 _"Stop being so dramatic."_ He hard her voice whisper in his head, affirming his guess that he was indeed loosing his mind. _"You'll live without me dickhead."_

For the first time since entering the church he forced himself to look at her in her coffin. Her grey hair was spread around her head like a halo although she was far from holy, hands clasped together, wedding ring glinting in the light. She looked like she was sleeping. If he squinted he could almost fool himself that she could sit up any minute to complain about something, probably the noise.

But still, it was finally time that he come to terms with the fact that she was dead. Now she was nothing more than a cold corpse taunting him from her wooden prison. Oikawa Momoko was dead but he could bet that she was indeed at an open bar, taking shots with Sayori like they had so often done in university.

He was ready to say goodbye. Goodbye but not forever so more of a 'See you later' he supposed. Yeah, he'd see her later, probably outside the convenience store where it all started or typing away furiously by their large window which overlooked the lake. The thought gave him some comfort.

"Goodnight Momoko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I have zero desire to edit this


End file.
